


by your side

by ppperaltiagooo



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, First Time Parents, Fluff, Kid Fic, Marriage, Married Couple, Parenthood, Peraltiago, Peraltiago Pregnancy, Pregnancy, peraltiago baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-11-22 15:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20876729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ppperaltiagooo/pseuds/ppperaltiagooo
Summary: in which jake is sent undercover again and amy finds out she is pregnant while he’s gone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> This is my second Peraltiago FanFiction here on AO3 and I'm really excited about this one! I'm really proud of this first chapter and I have a lot of ideas for this fic! This first chapter is a lot longer than I usually make my chapters but as a reader I prefer to read longer ones so hopefully you guys feel the same way.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoy it, please comment! Comments fuel me to keep writing! :)

**— March —**

_It's not fair._

But then again, when is anything that ever happens to them fair? Was it fair when Jake was sent away to Florida to start an entirely new life under the Witness Protection Scheme? Was it fair when he was wrongfully accused of armed robbery and sentenced to fifteen years in prison? No. None of it was fair. But stuff like this just kept happening to them, again and again, and will they ever get to settle down and have the happy, peaceful, married life she's always wanted?

Probably not, it seems.

He'll be okay. She knows he will. He always is, and this time will be no exception. He is intelligent, brave and, most importantly, this is his _job_. This is what he does, as he keeps reminding her, and she has to accept that he's capable of doing this, just like he's been capable so many times before.

But still, as she sits on the edge of the bed, bouncing her right leg up and down nervously and watching her husband dig his passport out of their bedside drawer, she can't help but worry. Worry that today will be the last time she sees him, that he'll die out there, without her, and she'll be left alone, forever wondering if there was something she could have done. And she knows this is standard police business, and she knows the roles could very well be flipped one day, and she knows there's nothing she can do about it, but she's angry anyway. Angry at the NYPD for asking him to go, and angry at him for agreeing. Angry at herself for not trying harder to stop him.

He looks up and his soft eyes meets hers. She knows he can see how frustrated she is, how sad and worried, because his lips curve into a frown and he stands up straighter. "Ames," he says gently, like he's frightened she might break, and she is too. Frightened she might crumble, might fall apart right in front of his eyes. "It's only four months. I'll be back before you know it."

"Could be longer." She mumbles, looking down at the ground as she says it. Could be five months, could be six. _Could be forever if they find out he's an impostor and kill him._ She shudders at the thought and pushes it to the back of her mind, shoves it into a box and locks it, and she stands up and walks into his outstretched arms.

“Ames,” he says again, his voice catching as she lays her head on his chest and he wraps his arms around her.

“Shh,” she says, squeezing her eyes closed. There are tears rolling down her cheeks now and she doesn’t want to think about this, doesn't want him to talk about it, wants to forget all of this is happening, that Jake is going away again. She wants to freeze time so they can live in this moment forever, his arms wrapped around her and the warmth of his body pressed up against hers. She wants to stay right here, in his embrace, for the rest of time. She desperately wishes that life worked that way. But it doesn't. And sooner or later he has to leave.

They stand there, together, in each others arms, for what feels like hours, but is probably only a few minutes. Amy tries to breathe him in, to memorise his smell and the way his body curves, to remember the way his lips feel on her head when he presses a kiss there and pulls away from her. He offers her a small, sad smile, and she tries to smile back through the tears.

He isn't really allowed to take anything with him, which Amy is partly happy about because it means she gets to wear his clothes when she misses him and needs to remember how he feels. But this also means leaving behind his wedding ring, which she tries not to resent him for, but deep down, she hates the idea of him being out there without that thin, golden band on the fourth finger of his left hand. He looks at it for a moment too long before sliding it off and placing it next to the lamp of their windowsill, and Amy winces inwardly, the sight almost physically _hurting_ her.

She swallows and tries to push through the lump in her throat, offering Jake a slight smile as he looks up at her sheepishly. "Well," she says, and has to clear her throat because her voice is almost completely gone. "We should go."

"I guess we should," Jake replies, but he doesn't move, so Amy walks towards him and takes his hand in hers, pulling him out of their bedroom. They have to be strong, she knows that, and if one of them can't be, the other has to support them. That's how marriage works, or at least that's how _their_ marriage works.

The cab ride to the airport is silent, but Jake's hand never leaves Amy's, which she finds comforting. She traces her thumb over his palm, trying to remember every line, every crevice. She doesn't want to forget anything while he's gone, not even the feel of his hand in hers. The little things are important to Amy, always, but right now more than ever. She tries to imagine how many times he's held her hand, how many times she's felt him rub over her knuckles in a gentle massage, reassuring her during the bad times and wordlessly communicating his love through the good ones.

Captain Holt is waiting at the airport for them, with Madeline Wuntch standing just behind him, her arms behind her back and her lips pursed. Holt looks okay, like his emotions aren't taking over his body as much as Amy's are, but the slight twitch under his left eye and the tilt in his mouth tell her he is having just as hard a time as she is. Boyle, Diaz and Jefford's aren't here, and neither is Gina. They had to say goodbye to Jake yesterday, so Amy supposes she is quite lucky to be here today, to be allowed to kiss Jake for the last time in at least four months and to watch his private plane take off.

"Peralta," Captain Holt says with a nod, and Jake nods back.

Amy stays quiet, wrapping her arm around Jake's and holding onto him tightly.

"Detective Peralta, good morning," Wuntch says, stepping forward and holding out a hand which Jake shakes without a word. She holds her hand out to Amy, and greets her with, "Sergeant Santiago," and Amy wants nothing more than to slap her hand away and ask her _why?_ Why Jake? Why her husband? But she doesn't of course. Instead, she shakes her hand and nods at the acting Commissioner politely.

Jake wordlessly reaches into his pocket with his free hand and pulls out his passport, passing it over to Wuntch. She swaps it for his new, fake passport and Jake doesn’t open it before stuffing it in his pocket, which Amy is thankful for because she’s not sure she can cope with seeing his face next to another name. A name she doesn’t know, a name unfamiliar to her. Madeleine Wuntch is looking at him, raising an eyebrow expectantly, and Amy knows she is urging him to say goodbye, telling him they have to leave.

So she takes it upon her self to turn around and bury her face in Jake’s chest. His arms don’t hesitate before wrapping around her, pulling her close, and she tries to hold the tears back, tries to be strong for him.

“I love you,” she mumbles, pressing her cheek right above where his heart sits, hard enough that she can feel it beating, can count his heart rate as it thumps into her ear.

“Ames,” he says, holding her outwards and using his hands to cup her face. He forces her to look at him, and she _hates_ him for a second because the more she looks at him the more she wants to cry. “I love you. And I promise, whatever it takes, I’ll come home to you.”

Amy nods, wanting desperately to believe him one-hundred-percent but unable to push past ninety. She know he’ll try, knows he’ll fight, but drug rings are nasty places, and she’s not sure he’s thought properly about the dangers he will face. “I know,” she lies, and she leans in to capture his lips in a kiss.

She doesn’t care that Holt, her Captain, is here. Hell, she doesn’t care that the acting Commissioner is standing right beside her. All she can think about is that this is the last time she will see Jake, the last time she will hug him or kiss him, for the next four months. And she can’t stop telling herself that maybe it will be longer. Maybe it will be six months, or a year. _Or maybe it will be forever_. So she kisses him with all the passion and might she can muster, tries to convey all her feelings for him in one kiss, and she feels his tears, wet on her cheeks and her lips and her nose, and now she is crying too.

It’s a while, Amy thinks, before they pull away from one another, and it almost hurts physically, _burns_, when they do. Jake holds her head in his hands, his fingers in her hair, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. A long, lingering kiss, and she can feel all the love he has for her, how much he cares and how much he wishes this wasn’t happening.

And then Amy is ripping herself away from him, and Holt is embracing him, and they hug for at least ten seconds, and Amy is happy that they are saying goodbye but she’s also jealous, angry at Holt for taking up so much time with Jake. She watches as they hug, watches as Holt says he’ll miss Jake and that he’ll see him soon. Jake thanks him and Holt pats him on the back, and then her eyes meet with Jake’s again and he is smiling sadly.

“It’s time to go, detective,” Wuntch says, and Amy is wondering if she can still become Captain with a charge of assault on her record.

Jake is walking towards the plane now, Madeleine by his side, and Amy can’t help it. “I love you, Jake!” She hollers, and he turns round to look at her. “Please be safe,” she murmurs, quiet this time, but Holt hears her and his large hand finds her back in an extremely-un-Holt-like attempt to comfort her.

Jake mouths the words back, says, “I love you,” one last time before he disappears onto the private plane, and Amy can’t see him anymore.

She waits to see if he takes a seat near one of the windows, but he doesn’t, so she waits until the plane takes off, and waves at it anyway, just in case he can see her, tears pooling in her eyes once again. When she turns around, Holt is standing next to his car. It seems he has waited on her, and she appreciates it.

“Let me take you home, Santiago,” he says, and Amy notes that his usually monotone voice seems to have a sparkle of empathy and kindness mixed in.

She says nothing but offers him the best smile she can find before climbing in the passengers side of his car.

They’re silent the entire half-hour-drive back to her apartment (their apartment. It’s _their_ apartment), but she knows that’s how Captain Holt likes it anyway. It feels like life without Jake hasn’t quite sunk in yet, but somehow it also feels like it has sunk in all too much already. She notices how painfully empty her hand is without Jake’s intertwined with hers, how painfully quiet the car is without Jake cracking jokes, and how painfully empty her heart feels now that he is gone.

“Santiago,” Holt says as she climbs out of the car. “You know where Kevin and I are, should you need anything.”

“Thank you, sir,” Amy squeaks out with a nod, simultaneously thanking him for his support at the airport, the ride home and his offer of help if she needs anything.

He nods once in return before slowly driving away, but Amy sees him glancing back, checking on her, a few times. Eventually, he turns a corner and he is gone, and she is alone.

She stares up at the building for a few minutes, hundreds of people passing her, but everything feels like it’s in slow-motion. Her eyes focus on the window of their apartment, and the lights are out, just how they left them. Nothing has changed here, but everything has changed within her.

Amy forces herself inside the apartment building and decides to take the elevator, which is against the rules of her claustrophobia but her legs feel like they’re about to give out so it seems like the safest option. The elevator ride feels infinite, but some thirty-seconds later she is on the third floor, standing in front of their apartment and staring at the door, her hand grasping the key in the lock. She twists it slowly, hears the bolts click, and pushes the door open.

The apartment feels cold, colder than the spring-night-air had felt when it nipped at her face outside. She steps inside, takes her shoes off at the door like always, and locks the door behind her.

She sits down on the couch, but she isn’t really sure where to start. Should she watch a movie? No, she decides, looking at their collection of DVD’s, because they are all badass cop movies that Jake loves and it doesn’t seem okay to watch them without him. Should she tidy the apartment? No, because it still smells of Jake and he is still here (or at least his things are) and she can’t take that away from herself. At least not yet.

It’s only seven-thirty-PM, but she makes her way through to the bedroom and strips off. The bed is unmade, just like it had been when they’d left, and she stares at it for a second, imagines Jake lying, waiting for her. She shudders and pulls one of his checked shirts over her head, flopping down onto the edge of the bed.

This isn’t fair.

“It’s not fair!” She screams, and she doesn’t realise she’s saying it really but somewhere deep inside her it registers. Anger is bubbling deep within her and she pulls at her hair, shrieking into the silence of the dark apartment, and then she stands up and punches a hole in the wall adjacent from her.

Blinding pain. She is yelping. She grasps her damaged knuckles with her free hand and squeezes it, trying to make the pain disappear, but it isn’t going anywhere. She stares at the blood on the white wall and the shape of her small knuckles, indented there forever, and she knows Jake will be worried about her when he gets home and sees this.

She mumbles a cuss and wipes the blood off her fist with the sheet as she crawls into bed. She lays on her back and stares up at the ceiling, and her hand hurts, but it’s okay. It distracts her, even if only a little bit, from missing him. And anything that can distract her is okay, anything that can distract her is allowed.

She’s not sure when she falls asleep, but at some point she does.

When she wakes again, light is streaming through the window because she forgot to pull the curtains closed. For a moment, she is blinded and, in that moment, she forgets. She forgets everything, and her hand reaches out, her finger splaying across the empty side of the bed where Jake should be. But Jake isn't there, and so she remembers.

She drags herself out of bed, and it takes all the strength she has within her. The time is five-forty-two-AM, and as much as she wants to lay around and wallow in her own self-pity for the rest of the day, she has to get ready for work. Captain Holt had told her weeks ago that if she needed time off, she could have it, but Amy wasn't the type to take holidays from work. Now, though, she really wished she was, or that she could at least be that type for the rest of the day.

She stares at herself in the full-length bathroom mirror while the shower runs in the background. Her hair is knotted and tangled, so she guesses she mustn't have had a great sleep last night, and her eyes are tired and puffy from crying with huge dark circles beneath them. Her frame looks more petite than ever and she notices that her arms and legs seem to be trembling. She looks so weak, and she hates it. Her entire life she has been strong, muscular, able to stand up for herself, but today she looks thin, frail and afraid.

She imagines Jake approaching her from behind and wrapping his arms around her bare waist, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck and kissing her there, and the room seems to light up, warmth spreading throughout her. But it's not real, he's not here, and she has to get that through her stupid head.

She doesn't eat breakfast, instead opting for a coffee, simply because she needs it to stay awake. It makes her gag because her stomach is so empty and it aches from crying.

Work is a welcome distraction. Her squad don't seem to know about her situation, but thankfully no high-jinks ensue, so the day is quiet for her. She is thankful when her friends don't bring it up, don't bring him up, when she takes her lunch break upstairs with them. They talk about Terry's girls and Rosa's girlfriend and it feels almost normal. Normal, that is, until she feels herself laughing and looks to her right to see if Jake is laughing too, but he isn't there and he won't be for a while now. Nothing is the same without him. The world has gone dark.

No one asks about her hand, but Rosa stares at it long enough for Amy to hide it in her pocket in the hopes that no one else will see it. It stings and there are large, dark bruises scattered all over it already, but it will be okay. She'll be okay.

On her walk home, Amy tells herself she is being silly. Some people have lost their partners, _really_ lost them. To terrible accidents or to horrible diseases. And she can't even cope with Jake being gone for work for a few months. What is wrong with her? Has she really lost her touch? Isn't she cold and independent anymore?

No, she decides. No she isn't. Because life can't ever seem to let them be happy. As soon as things are getting back to normal, life swoops in and ruins it all, takes him away from her yet again. And for however-many-months he is gone for (because she won't let herself settle on a number, won't get her hopes up) she can't see him, she can't contact him. He is virtually a stranger. She is to behave as though he is, and she would endanger him and herself if she broke that rule.

She understands why she was chosen. Of course she does. For one, he's an amazing cop and a brilliant detective. If anyone can bring down the biggest drug ring in the entire East Cost, it's her husband. And since he's been investigating one of the many smaller drug gangs involved, Amy understands why he was seen as a perfect choice. But, now? Now when they had just settled into marriage? With their second wedding anniversary coming up?

She ponders what her life would be like without him, _really_ without him, if he never came back home, and she doesn't like it. _Not one bit_.

The apartment feels even more empty tonight, and it just gets worse and worse from there. Work helps, at least a little, but Amy knows as she makes her way through the week that she has the weekend off, and that means two days all alone, in an empty apartment without Jake. She tries not to think about, tries to keep going, full steam ahead, but she is thankful when Holt calls her into his office three days after Jake leaves to ask her to help with a case.

"If you have the time, Santiago, I'm sure Diaz would wholeheartedly appreciate your help with the potential homacide case she is working on. She has found it... quite tricky."

Amy knows he's lying for her benefit. She knows Rosa is a more than capable detective and that she doesn't routinely struggle on cases. But she doesn't say anything. She nods and says thank you and goes along with it, finding Rosa at her desk and informing her that Holt has asked her to help out.

"Dope," Rosa says, and Amy knows she's in on it. She feels a little embarrassed, a little frustrated that they so clearly haven't been believing her when she tells them that she's fine, but she doesn't say anything again. Instead, she pulls up a chair and watches as Diaz opens the case files on her computer. She sort of appreciates it and, anyways, murders have always been her favourite. "Alright. This is the victim. Mr Carlos Rodriguez, ninety-two."

"Ninety-two?" Amy exclaims, shocked, and almost sure they've made this cage up just to occupy her. "Are you sure it isn't just death due to natural causes?"

Rosa nods, a small smirk taking up residence on her face. "That's exactly what I said. But for some reason, something felt wrong to the funeral home and they demanded a post-mortem, which showed traces of poison in his system."

"Suicide?" Amy asks with a shrug.

"Again, exactly what I said, but the guy was so old he was basically incapable of standing up. His daughter cared for him full time and the only time she wasn't there was during the night. He couldn't get out of bed, so when exactly did he get the opportunity to poison himself?"

Despite herself, Amy feels a small smile growing on her face. "Alright," she says slowly. "I like it. I'm in."

"Awesome," Rosa deadpans, standing up and shrugging her leather jacket on. "I was planning to go talk to the family. You up for it?"

"You bet." Amy nods, following Rosa out of the bullpen and into the elevator. And she knows for the one-millionth time in her life that this is the right job for her, because helping solve a case can make her forget everything, can make everything in her life feel okay, no matter the circumstances.

Amy’s stomach churns uncomfortably as Rosa drives them towards the family home of Mr Rodriguez’s daughter. She hasn’t really eaten much since Jake left, doesn’t feel up to it, so maybe that’s why. Or maybe it’s because she’s a little nervous. This is her first time out on the field since Jake went away and it’s a potential homicide so there are obviously some dangerous people involved. She’s not so sure she wants to do it now, help Rosa. What if something happens to her and no one can tell Jake till he gets home? What if she dies and he doesn’t know? Or what if she’s injured and he isn’t there to help her? She feels like she might vomit and asks Rosa to turn the radio on to distract her. Rosa looks at her with an eyebrow raised questioningly and must see how uncomfortable she is because she obliges almost immediately.

Mr Rodriguez’s daughter’s home is just outside of Brooklyn which isn’t that long a drive from the precinct. Amy reads over her notes before they approach the home and learns that her name is Anna, she is thirty-seven and she is a single mother to two boys.

Amy straightens out her Sergeants badge as they approach the door. Rosa knocks, and they wait silently side by side. Amy can hear kids playing and footsteps, and then the door swings open and Anna is standing there. She looks tired, with sleep-deprived looking eyes and a messily braided hair, but she offers them a smile none the less.

“Ma’am, my name is Detective Rosa Diaz. This Sergeant Amy Santiago.” Rosa says in her usual emotionless voice. “We’re here to discuss your father with you.”

“Oh, yes, come in,” Anna says in a sickly sweet voice that for some reason just doesn’t sit right with Amy. She’s sure she’s probably just imagining it, just frustrated with the world around her, and she follows Rosa inside the home. “You’ll have to excuse the mess. My boys don’t tidy up behind themselves.”

“It’s no problem, Miss Rodriguez,” Amy says without really thinking about it, smiling.

Amy can hear the boys playing down the hall in what she supposes is a bedroom, but Anna leads them into the family room so she never actually sees them. She sits down on the sofa and Rosa sits next to her, and she looks around her at all the kids toys. There’s a kids movie playing on TV, too. It gets her thinking. Thinking about kids. Kids with Jake. She wonders whether he’s changed his mind, he seemed to have been coming round to the idea before he left. But Amy doesn’t suppose that really matters now that he’s gone.

“Would you like something to drink? Tea?”

Amy looks up at Anna and shakes her head quickly. Rosa looks at her, as if waiting for her to say something else, then turns back to Anna and answers for the both of them. “No thank you, Miss Rodriguez. We’re fine.”

Anna nods and sits down, and Amy glances down at her notes and proceeds to talk. “We just have a few questions for you today, ma’am. I appreciate this is a difficult time but your answers may really help us with our investigation into what happened to your father.” She pauses and waits to see if Anna objects, but she doesn’t, so Amy continues. “What was your relationship like with your father?”

“It was great,” Anna answers, almost too quickly for Amy’s liking, but she tries to shrug that off. “We were really close. I was his primary care giver towards the end. You know, when he developed Parkinson’s and, well, everything else.”

Amy and Rosa spend about a half-hour at Anna Rodriguez’s home, asking questions until they feel satisfied. They show themselves out, and Amy can’t shake the feeling that there’s something not quite right with Anna, something she can’t put her finger on. There’s pain in her eyes, but that can easily be explained away by the fact that she has just lost her father. No, it’s something else, and Amy is determined to figure out what it is.

“There’s something weird about her,” Amy mutters to Rosa as they climb in the car.

Rosa nods. “I agree. She did.”

“What? How do you figure that?” Amy asks, partly shocked but in agreement with her colleague.

Rosa shrugs, starting the car. “Just a feeling.”

“I feel the same way,” Amy nods. “But we have no evidence.”

“We’ll find some,” Rosa says, sounding sure of herself.

Amy feels somewhat excited as they head back to the precinct, and it is a much welcomed feeling. It distracts her from Jake. Just a little bit, but she’s thankful for whatever she can get.

Back at the precinct, she and Rosa have missed lunch, so she runs through what she missed with her squad downstairs and gives them instructions for the afternoon before she heads back up to work on the case.

Amy and Rosa work on the case for the rest of the afternoon, looking over potential suspects and evidence. Their main person of interest is Anna. She’s the only person who had around the clock access to her father, and as it turns out, she is working as a part-time nurse at a local hospital, making it totally plausible that she gained access to some kind of poisonous substance from her workplace. Rosa orders a further inquest into which kind of poison was found in Mr Rodriguez’s system, and Amy skims the case files, looking for some kind of evidence that could be used against Anna.

“We’ve totally got her.” Rosa says, crossing her arms over her chest and looking completely confident in her claim.

“Yeah,” Amy agrees, unsure at first, but then becoming more certain of herself. “Yeah. Yeah, we do!” She pauses and places the case notes down, turning to look at Rosa awkwardly. “Hey, thanks for doing this. You know, distracting me.”

“I got your back,” Rosa says simply. “Besides, I really do need your help on this one.”

Amy rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously, Santiago,” Rosa says firmly, looking Amy straight in the eye. “I mean it. You’re a great detective. You’re the first person I come to when I need help on a case.”

“Besides Jake,” Amy says quietly, but she’s not jealous, she’s simply reminiscing, thinking of the times when Rosa and Jake would work as an amazing team to solve any case handed to them.

“Besides Jake.” Rosa confirms with a small smile, staring ahead, before she shakes herself back to reality. “Anyways, looks like we’re done for the day. Thanks, Santiago.”

Amy forces a smile onto her face and nods at Rosa as they both stand up. “No, thank you.” She picks up the case files so she can store them away safely and swings her bag over her shoulder. “Pick up where we left off next week?”

“Sure thing.” Rosa says, and they go their separate ways.

Amy returns the case files to the evidence lock up, and on her way out of the bullpen she stops by Jake’s desk. She traces her hands over it gently, and dust has already started to collect. It stings her eyes but does nothing to clear the lump forming in her throat.

She realises on the walk home (she’s started to walk home everyday now. The cold air distracts her and anyways, exercise is good for her) that Jake has been gone for three days. Three whole days. The realisation stops her, knocks the air out of her lungs, and she isn’t sure what to do. She thinks about stopping by Gina’s. It’s nearby, and Amy knows Gina would understand how she’s feeling. She might tease her at first but, at the end of the day, Jake is Gina’s oldest friend. She’s bound to be almost just as worried as Amy is. Almost. But she doesn’t go to Gina’s, and she doesn’t go to Boyle’s. She just keeps walking, walking, walking, until she ends up on the roof of her building, staring out at New York City.

She sits down at the edge and imagines how romantic it would be if Jake were here right now. The sun is just beginning to set and she’s had a long day, but she knows if she were with Jake they’d talk for hours. Maybe they’d even have a glass of wine and some food. They’d stay up here until darkness fell on the city, and then he’d lean in and kiss her, and then maybe they’d fall into bed, wrapped around one another, and it would be heaven.

But he’s not here, and all Amy can resolve to do is to make that night happen. One day. Hopefully soon. Maybe in the far future. Maybe never. But she hangs onto the thought, onto the hope, and it makes her feel a lot better. Okay, a little. But it’s something.

And something will have to do for now.

Amy tucks herself into bed that night with the realisation that she doesn’t have work tomorrow, or the day after that for that matter. She’s always hated days off, but she’s dreading this non-working weekend more than she ever has before.

She reaches for the nightstand and finds Jake’s wedding ring still sitting there, a minute layer of dust forming on it. She wipes it clean on her tee-shirt and holds it to her heart, wondering where he is, if he’s okay, trying to communicate with him. She wishes he still had the ring on him, with him. She knows it’s silly, but their weddings rings have always made her feel like there’s a connection between them at all times, and to know he isn’t wearing his hurts her a little.

“Hey babe,” she says, lighting her phone up and talking gently to the picture of Jake on her lock screen. Her voice catches in her throat so she clears it and begins talking again. “I hope that you’re okay, that you’re safe. I just want you to know that I... I love you. And I m-miss you s-so much.”

She descends into tears, clutching her phone and Jake’s wedding ring close to her chest. She feels weak and she thinks for a few seconds that Jake would be so ashamed of her if he could see her now, that this isn’t the strong woman he chose to marry and that she’s embarrassing him. It only takes her a moment to realise that this is a stupid thought, that Jake loves her and crying will _never_ make a different to that fact.

Her heart hurts as she lays down, placing the ring back where he left it, on the table next to the lamp. She lays down and buries her head in his pillow and, miraculously, it still smells of him. She snuggles further into it and imagines he is holding her tight as she weeps, and it is this thought that allows her to drift off into what she would regard as a semi-peaceful sleep.

In the morning, she wakes up later than usual, which she decides is okay because it means she has to spend less of the day conscious.

She decides to make pancakes and bacon, and she turns on the news while she whips them up. They’re not very good, and that’s not all that unusual for Amy because everyone knows she’s not an amazing cook, but she’s never vomited from eating something she’s made. But she gets through half a pancake when she has to shoot out of her seat and run to the sink, barely making it before she spews the food up. There isn’t much in her stomach, so it doesn’t take long before she is dry gagging, and she takes a sip of water to stop herself.

_That was weird,_ she thinks.

But it’s not like it’s _unknown_ for her to get a nervous stomach when she’s upset, and she _did_ cry herself to sleep last night, and her stomach _was_ pretty empty, and the pancakes _were_ pretty bad.

She shrugs it off and cleans up the sink, then throws the food in the trash where it obviously belongs.

Her parents call. They know Jake is gone, but they don’t know any of the details. They invite her round for dinner, and she politely declines. She doesn’t really feel like being around people, let alone her strict, Latina parents, and anyways, she still feels a little queasy from this morning.

She thinks about calling Karen, seeing how she is, but she decides against it. She’s not sure she can stomach it, and she’s pretty convinced Karen will cry (Karen _always_ cry’s), and then she’s pretty convinced that will make her cry too. Instead, she calls Kylie, and they chat for a couple hours about her new boyfriend and the apartment she has just moved into.

“So, Amy,” Kylie says in a nervous voice, and Amy knows she is about to broach the subject. “How are you holding up?”

Amy swallows nervously. “I’m... okay.” She picks her words carefully, careful not to say anything she will regret.

“Are you sure?”

Amy sighs. “Yeah.” She pauses. “I have to be, don’t I? I mean, I have no choice, right?”

“I guess. But... it still sucks,” Kylie says.

“Yeah,” Amy murmurs quietly. “Sucks. Sucks a _lot_.”

She spends the rest of the day watching the news. She doesn’t eat much, doesn’t eat at all really. She is waiting with bated breath, half expecting a news report to pop up on the screen and tell her that her husband, Jake Peralta, has been shot dead by a drug dealer. She waits all day, not fully realising how long she’s been there, but Jake’s name never pops up on the screen and he’s not dead. At least not that she knows of.

Her eyes focus on a picture on their bookshelf. A picture from their wedding, where Amy is wrapped in Jake’s arms, and he’s looking at the camera with this huge, goofy, Jake-like grin on his face and she’s kissing his cheek. She smiles at it and walks over to it, touching Jake’s cheek with her fingertips.

“I love you, Jake. I’ll wait for you. Forever if I have to. I’ll wait.”

And wait she will.


	2. Chapter 2

**— March —**

When Monday morning finally rolls around, Amy couldn’t be happier to go back to work. Sure, her floor had probably descended into chaos while she’d been gone and, sure, she’d be the one left to clean up the mess but the weekend had been hellish. With nothing and no one to really distract her, Amy’s days off work had brought nothing other than thinking about Jake, doing crossword puzzles (where every word reminded her of something about Jake) and eating ice cream (during which she wondered if Jake would like the flavour she was eating). She was looking forward to some distraction, and to picking up her case with Rosa again.

Over the weekend, she’s thought long and hard about Anna Rodriguez’s potential motives, and the way Amy sees it, it has to have something to do with money. Of course, she’s tried _very_ hard not to just convict Anna in her mind (the law is that everyone is innocent until proven guilty, of course) but Amy is sure Anna has to have _something_ to do with it.

When she returns to work, she is happy to find that there hasn’t been any major problems over the weekend while she’s been gone. A few of her cops request her help on some paperwork they’ve been struggling to complete (like every week, because Amy is known to be the queen of paperwork around here) but other than that, all seems to be fine.

Amy fills her team in on their jobs for the day during the morning briefing and then makes her way upstairs, where Charles greets her with one of the most uncomfortable hugs she’s ever experienced in her life.

“There, there, Amy,” he says, patting her back. “Now, now.”

She knows he’s just trying to help, and she understands that he’s probably partly projecting his own feelings about Jake being gone onto her, so she does what seems kindest and hugs him back, then answers all of his questions about how she’s doing and let’s him feed her some strange breakfast dish he’s concocted.

“It’s good for the heart,” he tells her as he plates a portion up.

“Thanks, Boyle. Looks... _great_.” She tries not to gag as she looks at a plate of what looks like slop. She promises him she’ll eat it in the investigation room with Rosa, but as soon she closes the door behind her, she dumps it in the bin and hurriedly covers it with other garbage.

Rosa cackles. “What did Boyle try to feed you?” She asks, turning her head round to look at Amy.

“I don’t even want to talk about it!” Amy exclaims, a shiver running through her as she dumps the plate down on the counter and shakes her head.

Rosa snorts. “I found out some juicy stuff about Anna Rodriguez over the weekend. Wanna hear it?” Rosa works weekends a lot of the time, and Amy knows there’s no doubt that she’s been working on the case in her spare time.

“Oh, boy!” Amy says, sitting down across from Rosa and clapping excitedly. She realises she may have just embarrassed herself and tries to right herself, clearing her throat and trying to seem calmer. “I mean, yes. Of course.”

Rosa studies her for a second before turning the case notes around so they face Amy. “So, look here,” she says, pointing at a box of text. “I spoke to some of the carer centres around the area. One of them told me that a few years back, Anna supposedly had a fight with her dad and hired them to look after him for a while. She only took up full responsibility of caring for him again a couple months back and, now, he’s dead.”

“A possible motive!” Amy says, excited by the prospect of solving a murder case. “The fight!”

Rosa nods. “I thought maybe the best person to talk to about Anna and her potential involvement was Anna’s mom. So, I tracked her down.”

“Oh my God, Rosa! This is amazing!” Amy cries, picking up the case notes as flipping through them again. “This is her address? We have to go!”

“Great minds think alike, Santiago. Let’s go.”

Anna’s mother, Gloria Emmanuel, lives two hours outside of Brooklyn, so they take a cab instead of Rosa driving. Amy uses her phone to read a book, because she knows Rosa probably won’t want to talk, but she can’t concentrate on it. It’s quiet moments like these that get her thinking about Jake again, and it hurts. She misses him so much. Tomorrow, he will have been gone a week. A week already. Amy hates this.

She feels a little queasy, but she guesses it’s motion sickness from the long cab ride. Her bright phone screen probably isn’t helping, so she tucks her phone into her pocket and opens the case files instead. Besides, she hasn’t eaten much in the past five days, so it’s probably just hunger pains.

Just when Amy feels like she might have to roll down the window and vomit out of the car, the cab driver stops and announces that they have reached their destination. Amy jumps out the car as quickly as she can, leaving Rosa to pay the fair.

“You alright, Santiago?” Rosa asks, not really sounding like she cares. But Amy knows she does, or she wouldn’t be asking.

“Yeah,” Amy nods, trying to sound sure of herself, when deep down she’s not confident about it at all. “Yeah. Just a little travel sick.”

As it turns out, Gloria Emmanuel does not know about her ex-husbands death but, strangely enough, she doesn’t really seem to care. In fact, Amy is sure she sees a slight smile on her lips. She tries to ignore it as they sit on the sofa.

“What happened to him?” Gloria asks after a moment.

“We can’t release that information yet, ma’am. However, we have cause to suspect that this is a potential homicide case.” Rosa pauses, waiting to see if Gloria will react, but she doesn’t. “Can you tell us a little more about your family life? About your daughter, Anna?”

"Anna? Well, I haven't seen Anna in twenty-two years. Not since I left her father."

Rosa and Amy glance at each other. This is suspicious information, to say the least. "What was the reason for that, ma'am? Did you two have a fight?" Amy asks, jumping in on the conversation. She throws her entire self into her work at the best of times, but especially now when she desperately needs to be distracted.

"She wanted to stay with her father," Gloria says with a shrug. "He always had some weird sort of power over her. She hated me after the divorce."

"We're sorry to hear that, Miss Emmanuel," Amy replies, and Rosa nods alongside her in agreement.

"He was awful man."

"Who was, ma'am?" Rosa asks quickly, and Amy waits with baited breath. When asked, Anna had said her father was an amazing man, that they were extremely close. But the idea that he might not be who Rosa and Amy think he is, coupled with the potential argument between the two of them? This could mean something.

"Carlos. He was-"

Miss Emmanuel keeps talking, but Amy feels herself zoning out. She feels queasy and, suddenly, the room is spinning. She isn't sure what's happening, but all she knows is that she has to get out of there, and fast. "Thank you, ma'am. I think we have all we need." Amy shoots out of her seat, and she looks pointedly at Rosa who is still taking notes. "Thank you," Amy repeats again, reaching out to briskly shake Gloria's hand, afraid of seeming rude.

"Oh, yes, well. Okay. Anytime." Miss Emmanuel replies, shaking Amy's hand politely but seeming confused.

Amy races from the home and hears Rosa staying back behind her to properly tie things up. She opens the door and rushes outside, desperate to feel fresh air in her lungs, but when she does, she doesn't quite have the reaction she was hoping for. The wind hits her strangely, and her vision becomes doubled as the world spins around her. She grabs onto the railing, pulling herself down the stairs slowly, trying to steady herself to no avail.

The last thing she hears before the world goes black is Rosa calling her name from behind her.

She's not sure how long it is before she comes back around but, when she wakes up, she is laying on the grass and Rosa is leaning above her. Rosa doesn't look overly concerned, but Amy thinks she can see a twinkle of worry (maybe it's pity) in her eyes.

"Santiago, what the hell happened?" Rosa asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't know, Rosa," Amy says defensively, but she can tell Rosa isn't buying it. She pulls herself into an upright position, forcing herself even although the world still feels like it is spinning around her. She accidentally lets out a muffled groan, and when Rosa raises an eyebrow at her, she sighs. "Fine!" She says, throwing her hands in the air. "I'm not feeling great, okay? I haven't eaten much since," she pauses, "since Jake left. I guess my blood sugar is low or something."

Rosa rises to her feet and extends her hand to Amy, pulling her up too. "You have to look after yourself, Santiago. Jake would kill me if he knew I let you make yourself sick."

Amy offers her friend a small smile, but she doesn't really feel like smiling.

Rosa sighs, gesturing towards the nearby shopping square. "Come on. Let's go get some food."

"Oh, no. I'm totally fine. Don't feel like eating." Amy tries, shaking her head and holding her hands up but Rosa is already walking away.

"Just _come_, Santiago."

Amy sighs and gives up arguing, following her colleague.

They end up eating at a nearby McDonald's and Amy forces some fries and a sugary drink into her. She has fun. Rosa might be straight-faced most of the time, but she's actually pretty funny, and she's trying really hard to make Amy laugh. Amy guesses Jake made Rosa promise to look after her before he left, but she goes along with it anyway, thankful for both the company and the distraction.

Back at the precinct, the rest of the day goes smoothly. Rosa is busy working on another case with Charles so Amy abandons the murder case for now and fills out some of the paperwork that is stacked on her desk until the end of the day.

As she walks home, she feels like she might bring up everything she ate for lunch earlier, but she plugs in her earphones and tries to drown out her queasiness. She's beginning to become concerned. Maybe she has some rare disease, some weird tumour or something. She's never felt this unwell in her life, and she actually fainted earlier. That was a first for her. She resolves to go to the doctors office. When she has time. Which will probably be never.

Amy sees a figure near her apartment building as she approaches it and, when she gets closer and her eyes have time to focus on the person, she figures out it is Karen. She walks faster after that, wondering what her mother-in-law is doing here.

"Karen?" Amy says, but it comes out as more of a question than anything else. Usually, Karen calls ahead of time before coming over.

Karen turns around and smiles warmly at Amy. "Amy!" She exclaims, giving Amy a quick hug, and then she holds up the plastic bag in her hand and says, "I hope you don't mind, but I brought dinner."

As they make their way up to the apartment, Amy can't help but feel slightly offended. She can look after herself... can't she? Are people really this worried about her? There's no need. She's fine.

"So, how are you doing, sweetie?" Karen asks as she places a plate down in front of Amy and sits across from her with her own.

"I'm okay," Amy says, nodding as she scoops a spoonful of food into her mouth.

"That's good." Karen smiles, but Amy can tell she doesn't believe her.

Karen doesn't bring up Jake again. Amy is thankful for it, and the food is actually really good. They eat and talk about work and how Roger is and where Roger is and Karen's favourite lesbian neighbours. It's not until after dinner, when they are enjoying a cup of coffee and watching one of Karen's art shows on TV, that Amy starts to feel sick again. She shoots out of her seat and excuses herself, heading to the kitchen and drinking a huge glass of water.

She is leaning against the counter when she feels Karen's hand on her shoulder and hears her say, "Amy, sweetie, is everything okay?"

Amy sighs. "It's not your food, I promise," she says sheepishly, turning to face Karen. "I've been feeling kind of sick lately."

"Oh my goodness, you're awfully pale," Karen gasps. "What kind of sick?"

"I threw up on Saturday." Amy says with a small shrug. "And... I, kind of, fainted? Earlier today."

Karen steps back, looking for a moment as though she is contemplating something. "Amy..." she says slowly. "Have you taken a pregnancy test lately?"

She's kidding, right?

"What? No." Amy scoffs with a laugh. "No. Of course not. Why would I? I'm not pregnant." She feels like she can't get enough air into her lungs, and she's not sure why, but she's panicking. Why is she panicking? She's not pregnant... right? "I can't be pregnant."

"Sit down, sweetie," Karen says, guiding Amy to one of the kitchen stools and helping her sit down. "I used to feel this way a lot when I was pregnant with Jake."

"I can't be pregnant," Amy says quietly. "I'm not." She racks her brain, tries to think of when it could have happened, how it could have happened. Sure, her and Jake weren't always totally careful, but they hadn't been trying. They hadn't decided to have kids yet. Jake wasn't even totally sure if he wanted them at all.

"Is your period late?"

Amy tries to think back, tries to think of when the last time she had her period was. And it's the second week in March, and her period always comes at the very start of the month, and she hasn't had one this month. Did she have one in February? Well, did she? She is becoming frustrated with herself, with her memory, and she racks her brain harder, and finally settles on the idea that yes. Yes, her period is late. And, in fact, her last period came in January of this year.

"No," she shakes her head briskly. As much as she loves Karen, she doesn't want her here for this. She isn't sure how she'll feel if she's pregnant and she doesn't want to cause a scene. Of course, she'll be happy. Thrilled. But Jake isn't here. Jake is supposed to be here. He's supposed to be there when she takes the test. He's supposed to be there when she finds out. She thinks of the easiest way to excuse her illness and says, "Actually, I'm on my period right now."

Karen nods, a look of realisation crossing her face. "Oh! Well, that explains it then! Sorry for scaring you, sweetie."

Amy nods sheepishly. "It's okay." She feels bad for lying, but she wants to do this alone. Has to.

Karen leaves not long after. Amy washes the dishes up after. Dries them. Puts them away. Anything to distract herself. There's no way. No way she's pregnant. No way the timing could be this bad. But... how else can she explain missing two periods in a row? Her period has been late before, but never completely absent. How else can she explain her sickness? She's never experienced a feeling like this before, never been so queasy, never fainted. She usually has an iron stomach and never falls sick, so how come some slightly under-cooked pancakes made her vomit a few days ago?

She opens the fridge, reaches for the bottle of red wine, stares at it and holds a glass up. _Pour some_, she tells herself. _You aren't pregnant_. She stands there for a minute or so, frozen, before sighing and slamming the wine back in the fridge, closing the door and heading for the bathroom.

She finds her stash of pregnancy tests in the top drawer. They're not a secret, and it's not the first time she's had to take one since she's been with Jake. But this time feels different. More... _certain._

She sits on the toilet as she waits for the test, watching the timer count down on her phone. It's going to be fine. _Everything's going to be fine._ Or at least that's what she tells herself, even though she has this strange, awful-but-amazing feeling things are about to change. Things are about to change big time.

Amy thinks about what will happen if she is pregnant, and at first she feels excited. She thinks about having a baby bump, about tiny socks and baby outfits and picking pushchairs out with Jake and... Jake. Her heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach and she doesn't feel excited anymore. Jake isn't here. Jake is gone. For months. And, if she is carrying his child, she has no way to even tell him. She can't do this alone. Can't go to scans without him there when she knows he'll beat himself up about it when he gets home. _If_ he gets home.

Her heartbeat speeds up as the timer goes off. She forces her shaking hands to reach out, grab the test, turn it over...

_Positive._

Her eyes fill with tears. Sad tears? Strangely enough, no. All she can feel is this weird, immense joy, and now the tears have escaped her eyes and they're running down her cheeks and she is laughing, and her hand is on her stomach and she is thinking about Jake, and this is the first time she's been able to think about him in just about a week without feeling fear and dread and longing. Her hand finds her flat stomach and she looks down at it, and she can't quite believe there is a baby growing inside of her. Half her and half Jake.

And then the sadness floods in.

Jake should be here with her. He should be here, by her side, finding out about this with her. He should be crying too and he should be hugging her and kissing her stomach. But instead, he is hundreds of miles away and he has no idea. He has no idea that Amy is carrying his baby, that they are about to start a family. She knows that if he did know, he wouldn't be out there. He would've refused to go undercover. He'd be here with her, no matter what. She knows he'll be mad at himself when he gets home, for missing things that he can never have the chance to see again. And how is she going to do this without him? How is she going to survive her first pregnancy without him here?

She looks down at her stomach again and stashes the positive pregnancy test away in a cupboard. She wants to keep it safe, wants to be able to show it to Jake one day, to let them see the thin, plastic stick that told her that his baby is inside of her.

Amy doesn't feel quite so lonely in bed that night.

It's difficult to go to work tomorrow, because she is scared and excited and nervous and... well, terrified, but she goes anyway. She sucks it up and goes like she always does, despite this newfound news and the queasy feeling taking over her stomach yet again. Today, it has been a week since Jake left, but Amy tries not to think about it. Instead, she calls the doctors office on the walk to work and makes herself an appointment for later in the week.

At the precinct, she is disappointed to find out that this is one of Rosa's days off so they can't pick up on the case again. Gina is visiting, sans Iggy who is at preschool (much to Gina's happiness. She doesn't seem to get much of a break, but she's a great mom. Amy imagines she could learn a thing or two from her).

"Hey, Albert, is it?" Gina asks as Amy enters the bullpen, tapping her chin in mock confusion.

Amy rolls her eyes, even though she knows Gina is joking, and corrects her. "It's Amy. You know my name, Gina."

"Yes, humorous," Captain Holt says plainly, without even a shred of humour in his voice. He turns to Amy. "How are you, Sergeant Santiago?"

"I'm good," Amy says, but she can't quite seem to get good enough at this whole 'faking happiness' thing.

One of Amy's officers hands in his notice and, she's not sure why and she's not proud of it, but she feels like she might cry when he leaves her desk. It's probably the stress. Or maybe it's the hormones. The _pregnancy_ hormones. It's going to take her a while to get used to this, she realises.

At lunch, she goes upstairs as usual, but enters the break room at exactly the wrong time. Hitchcock and Scully are sharing some sort of weird sub roll, and Amy gags. She thinks she might be able to keep it down but it becomes apparent to her very quickly that she is, in fact, going to vomit, so she races to the bathroom. She enters a stall and slams the door shut behind her, throwing up violently into the toilet bowl.

She groans, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and flushes the toilet. Amy hates vomiting.

When she leaves the stall, she jumps at the sight of Gina, leaning against the bathroom sink and raising an eyebrow at Amy suspiciously.

"Woah! Gina!" Amy giggles nervously. "Didn't know you were in here!"

"What's going on?" Gina says instantly, narrowing her eyes at Amy. "Did you just barf?"

It's out before she knows it. "I'm pregnant," Amy squeaks, and she realises almost straight away that Gina is the first person she has told. Before Jake. It doesn't seem fair, but this is the situation that they are in.

"Huh, no kidding," Gina says coolly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back further.

"Really? That's it?" Amy cries, slightly annoyed and also confused. She knew Gina wasn't easily surprised but she'd thought she might have a little more of a reaction than this.

"Congratulations, Ames." Gina says with a nod and a tiny smile on her face.

"Thanks, Gina," Amy says quietly, and then groans. "You're the first person I've told."

"What? Jake doesn't know?"

"No. I just found out last night."

"What? Man, that sucks." Gina says sadly, and Amy is surprised at the amount of emotion in her friends voice. But she knows that Gina cares a lot about Jake and, as much as she tries to joke about it, she cares a lot about Amy too. "This situation is totally unfair."

“Totally,” Amy sighs with a nod, sinking down against the wall to sit on the floor. Normally, she’d be totally against sitting on a dirty bathroom floor, especially whilst pregnant, but today is different.

Gina walks over and sits down next to her, and they sit there together for a while, on the floor of the precinct bathroom, just staring at the wall, and Amy thinks that even though Gina is sarcastic and bitchy and, well, rude, she’s never had a better friend.

“Would you... would you come to my doctors appointment with me on Friday?” Amy asks tentatively, looking at Gina. She knows Gina is likely to crack a silly joke and say ‘no way’, but it’s worth asking. She needs some form of support and, since Gina is the only person who knows about the baby, this seems like the best plan she has.

“You want _me_ to?” Gina asks in a joking manner, looking slightly surprised. Amy nods, preparing herself for the ridicule she is likely to face, but Gina nods, shrugging slightly. “I mean, sure. I’ll come.”

Amy feels a little happier when she goes back to her desk, and she forgets all about vomiting and about her beat cop leaving.

Amy finishes work late that night, so she takes a cab home, because it’s dark and cold outside. The cab ride is too silent for her, gives her too much time to think. She wonders what Jake is doing right now. She wonders if he is cracking jokes like usual or if he has learned to be serious for once, she wonders whether he is missing her and, above all, she wonders whether he is safe. She prays with everything inside of her that he is. That he’s happy and that he’s okay, wherever he is and whatever he’s doing. She hopes that he isn’t too worried about her, that she isn’t consuming his mind the way he is consuming hers.

Her parents call again, and she doesn’t answer it. It’s not like she doesn’t love them, like she doesn’t appreciate them calling, but she doesn’t want to talk to them about it, doesn’t want their pity. She’s never been particularly close with her parents, at least not in the way most people are. She knows they love her and they care about her and that they are proud of her, but their relationship isn’t _normal._ Amy remembers that in school, if one of her friends flunked a test their parents would say that it was okay, that they needed to do better but that they would help them. She thinks back to that one time she got a C in History class, and her parents nearly disowned her. Her mom was so upset she wouldn’t speak to Amy for days and her dad said he was ‘disappointed’ with her, and she was grounded for a week. They show their love in a different way from most people, and that’s okay, but it’s not what Amy needs right now.

She wonders what it will be like, telling everyone she is pregnant. She knows everyone one will be happy for her, for them, but she can’t stop thinking about how much they will also pity her. She understands why, and she knows they only feel that way because they care, but she wishes people would hide their pity better. She’s having a hard enough time without Jake as it is without everyone reminding her about his absence constantly.

Amy has always known she wants kids, always. It’s never been a question of if for her, more like a question of when. She knew she’d be an older mum, knew her career had to come first for a lot of her life. But now things are different. She’s a sergeant, she’s moving up in her field. And she has Jake. She is settled and organised and ready for this.

Jake, on the other hand, she knows has not always been quite so sure. But somehow, there is no doubt in her mind right now that he will be thrilled. He’ll make an amazing father, even with his doubts about his capabilities, which she had learned about during their formal debate over parenthood. And she remembers the disappointment on his face when he found out she was lying at last years Halloween heist, that she wasn’t pregnant and that they weren’t having a baby.

Since they got together, there has never been a doubt in Amy’s mind about him. She has known since they made it official that her babies would be with him, or that she wouldn’t have any at all. She never really thought for a second that she would leave Jake if he decided he actually didn’t want kids, but she was upset, and it was definitely a huge bonus to her when he told her he might consider it. She knows that lately it has become more of an option for them, that he has been slowly coming round to the idea, but now that it is a reality, she is happier than she ever thought she would be. It’s a weird mixture of feelings, this sadness about Jake being gone mixed in with absolute joy about being pregnant with his baby, and then there’s a little bit of nervousness and apprehension mixed in there too, but it’s okay. Amy thinks she can learn to accept it.

She digs through old photographs when she gets home, and finds a picture of Jake holding Ava, their goddaughter. She was such a beautiful baby, and Jake has this scared but happy look in his eyes, and he’s cradling her in his arms in this perfect, sweet way that screams nervousness and uncertainty. And then there’s a picture of Amy and Jake with all of Terry’s kids at last years Christmas party, and they’re getting so big, and Amy can’t believe that in a few years time she will have an actual toddler.

Her heart skips a beat at the picture of a tiny, day-old Iggy in her arms. Jake is leaning behind her, smiling at the camera, but her eyes are focused on the baby in her arms, and Amy is pretty sure that’s when she really started thinking about having kids with Jake. She pins the picture to the wall above her home desk and stares at it for a little bit longer, trying to imagine that the baby is her own, before she heads to the kitchen.

She pours the bottle of red wine down the sink and throws the bottle in the trash. _Won’t be needing that_, she thinks to herself.

Everything is changing around here, and it feels weird, but it also feels good. It feels really good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at writing Gina but I love her and I wanted her in here. Okay love u bye.
> 
> PS: Thanks so much for the amazing response on the last chapter. I love hearing everyone's favourite parts and seeing the kudos go up. It's amazing. Thank you so so much. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my lovelies! :')  
i'm sorry it took me a while to get this chapter done. i've got three essays to write for uni so i've been kind of distracted by them. also, i'm not particularly happy with this chapter so hopefully you guys like it more than i do lmao.  
thanks for reading, i'd love to hear your thoughts <3

**\- March -**

The realisation that she is pregnant has changed a lot for Amy, such as her current inability to stress smoke and a newfound hopeful feeling resting in the pit of her stomach when she thinks about Jake, but her job isn’t one of them. She knows that, if Jake were here, he’d tell her that she had to tell Holt about her situation. He’d tell her she had to do what was best for the baby and pull herself from fieldwork and, normally, she’d agree with him.

It’s just, well, she’s really invested in the Rodriguez case, and she thinks she and Rosa have to be close to a break. Surely a few more days won’t hurt, right? If she thought she was putting the baby in any danger, she’d remove herself from the case immediately, but Anna hardly strikes her as a cold-blooded killer who poses some kind of threat to her and her child’s safety. She has to finish this case before telling Holt. It will frustrate her forever if she doesn’t.

Rosa returns to work on Thursday, and Amy can’t wait to dive back into the case. They spend most of Thursday looking through possible evidence, trying to find someone else to talk to about Anna and following every other possible lead they can find. It’s somewhat boring, but Amy starts to feel like they are getting closer and closer to the truth.

A part of her wants to thank Anna for what she (probably) did. This case has been an amazing distraction for her, and Jake has been gone for almost two weeks already. That’s not much in the grand scheme of four months, but it’s something, and it’s been awful so far, but at least she’s had a homicide to help solve.

They don’t find anything of interest, so they call it a day at five-PM and resolve to call round the surrounding apartments to Mr Rodriguez’s tomorrow to find out if anyone saw or head anything interesting. It’s slightly disappointing, but the plus side is that Amy has only had to excuse herself once all day to throw-up, and Rosa didn’t ask any questions.

Amy doesn’t realise till she arrives home that tomorrow is the day of her first maternity appointment. Her stomach is a bundle of nerves as she texts Gina a time and place to meet her, and she waits till Gina has responded in agreement to switch her phone off and put it away for the night.

She can’t tell if she is excited or scared or happy or sad. All she knows is that it breaks her heart that Jake can’t be here with her.

Amy rolls her top up and looks down at her stomach, placing her hand on top of it gently. If she didn’t know she was, there’d be no way to tell she was pregnant, because no matter how hard she looks there’s no bump at all. She wonders how far along she is and imagines she can’t be more than five weeks. Five weeks seems okay. It could line up (though Jake and her have a lot of sex) and it seems early enough in the pregnancy that when Jake is set to return at four months, she won’t be too far gone. Five weeks it is, then.

It takes everything inside Amy not to light up a cigarette on her way to the doctors office the next morning. She knows, deep down, she could never do that, could never do something that might harm the baby, but God, she wants one. Instead, she stuffs way-too-much gum in her mouth and chews furiously, trying to keep her anxiety at bay.

Jake should be here. She keeps saying it to herself over and over again, damning her body for getting pregnant now of all times. He should be here to see this, should’ve been here to take the test with her. None of this will ever feel okay. None of this will ever be fair. She just hopes this baby can make up for it all, can heal their scars.

Gina waits for Amy a block away from the doctors office, and Amy envelopes her in a hug as soon as she sees her.

“Gina, thank you so much for coming with me,” she says as she squeezes her.

“Oh, okay, you can stop hugging me now,” Gina remarks, stiffening up and seeming uncomfortable, but Amy know she is only joking, so she hugs her harder before letting go slowly.

“What do they even do at these appointments?” Amy asks Gina nervously as they walk down the street, and she is suddenly thankful that Gina has been through all of this before.

Gina shrugs. “Not much, honestly. They basically just give you a pregnancy test and then they’re like, ‘oh you’re pregnant’ and you’re like, ‘duh. Tell me something I don’t already know’.”

Amy chuckles. Since leaving the Nine-Nine, it doesn’t seem like Gina’s humour has changed much. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be. You’ll be bored when you get there, trust me.” Gina says, rolling her eyes and fake-shooting herself in the head.

“You didn’t have to come,” Amy says sheepishly.

“I know,” Gina says with a shrug. “I wanted to.”

The thought that Jake probably told Gina, along with everyone else, to look out for her while he’s gone crosses Amy’s mind, but she doesn’t really care. She knows Gina wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to, whether Jake had asked her to or not, and she’s here, and Amy doesn’t have to do this alone.

Her doctor is a kind-looking, middle-aged woman named Doctor Adams. Her smile is tired, but kind and warm none-the-less.

“Hi, Amy. I’m Doctor Adams. It’s nice to meet you.” Doctor Adams says, shaking Amy’s hand. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Amy says with a nod as she sits down.

“I’m Gina, by the way,” Gina says, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she sits down. “I’m sure you were wondering.”

Amy cringes. “This is my friend, Gina.”

“No father today?” Doctor Adams asks, and Amy knows she is only trying to be kind but it makes a sort of sharp pain shoot through her heart.

“No,” Amy says quietly, shaking her head. “He’s, um, he’s...” She looks to Gina for help, knowing full well she can’t disclose details of Jake’s mission.

“He’s working away right now.” Gina finishes calmly, and Amy is more glad than ever that she brought her along.

Doctor Adams smiles warmly. “Okay.” She pauses, opening her notes. “So tell me about the symptoms you’ve been having, Amy.”

“I’ve been feeling nauseous. I’ve actually vomited a couple times. I also fainted.” She lists off her symptoms, being careful not to forget anything. “I haven’t gotten my period in a few months and, uh, I took a test and it came back positive. I just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“We can certainly check that for you,” Doctor Adams replies, nodding.

Gina helps Amy pee in a cup, which should be embarrassing but really isn’t (she’s known Gina for way too long now), and Doctor Adams uses a paper-stick to test the urine.

“Well, Amy,” the doctor says, sitting down across from Amy and Gina, “you’re definitely pregnant. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Amy replies, a wave of relief and happiness coursing through her now that it is finally confirmed.

“Have you thought any about what you want to do?” Doctor Adams asks. “Whether you want to carry the baby to full term or not? It’s a legal requirement that I ensure that you know you don’t have to have the baby if you don’t want to.”

Amy looks at Gina with a smile, almost for reassurance, before turning back to the doctor and confidently nodding her head. “I’m keeping the baby. I’m really excited.”

Doctor Adams smiles back. “I’m happy for you, Amy.” She says, before flicking through her notes. “You’re eight weeks gone, which means-“

“Wait, what?” Amy cries, shocked. This can’t be happening. Eight weeks? That means that when Jake gets back she’ll be six months pregnant, maybe even more if his mission keeps him away for longer. “Eight weeks? As in two months?”

Doctor Adams nods. “I know this must be quite a shock for you. Take a moment if you need.”

Amy closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, in and out. She opens her eyes again and shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m fine.” She’ll worry about this later.

Doctor Adams nods. “I’d like to get you started on some pre-natal vitamins which I think are really important for foetal development, and then we can get you all booked in for your first scan at fifteen weeks. Does that sound okay to you?”

Amy nods slowly, gulping. “Sounds great.”

Amy leaves the clinic feeling overwhelmed but somewhat excited at the same time.

She offers to buy Gina lunch after, but Gina declines and says she has ‘more important places to be’ (whatever that means. Amy tries not to be offended) so Amy goes alone. She has hot chocolate and a cupcake, which is much more calorific than what she would usually have for lunch but she feels like she deserves it. She’s pregnant, for one, and she also made it through her first maternity appointment. Without Jake, too.

It’s not like she thinks she can’t do anything without Jake. She’s strong, she’s independent, and she’s intelligent. She lived a long time before Jake came along and she got things done just fine that way. And it’s not like she depends on Jake for things. They don’t depend on each other. They work off of each other. But it’s like he’s her other half. Like she can’t physically live without him. She’s lost without him. And it’s just so unfair. She knows she can’t keep calling it unfair, because life is unfair and that’s just the way things are and it’s the nature of the job. But it’s just typical. Typical that when Jake has to go away again she finds out she’s pregnant.

The thing is that Amy has a plan for everything. A vision for literally every single event in her life. And this doesn’t match what she’d planned for her first pregnancy at all. She’d always imagined being lieutenant, being happily married to Jake for a good few years. She’d imagined trying, not for too long but for long enough that she and Jake had time to prepare. She’d make a conception binder to help them and then a pregnancy binder before she’d even fallen pregnant, and then they’d find out together and they’d both be so excited and thrilled. She’d wanted everything to be perfect, and this situation is far from it.

She hates herself for being so controlling sometimes, but she imagines not many people plan to find out they’re pregnant for the first time when their husband is off on a potentially life-threatening mission.

She sighs, finishing the last gulp of her hot chocolate. Suck it up, Amy. There are thousands of women who don’t have men in their lives while they’re pregnant.

She imagines Jake right now. He wouldn’t look like he normally does. He’s probably had his hair cut differently, and instead of his usual soft shirts and hoodies, he’s likely to be dressed in something that screams ‘drug dealer’ a little more loudly. But he’ll still smell the same. He’ll still have that same huge smile and those same twinkly eyes. He’s still Jake. He always will be.

If he was here right now, he’d be happy. He’d be excited. He’d sweep her into his arms and hold her close and he’d be so looking forward to the baby’s scan in a few weeks.

But he’s _not_ here. And she needs to learn to accept that and make the most of it.

So when she gets home, she changes into her comfiest pair of pyjamas and starts her pregnancy binder. A photo of her flat stomach, with a note about her appointment, how she is two-months-along, her cravings, a photo of the positive pregnancy test she’s kept tucked away in the bathroom. If Jake can’t be here, then she’ll make sure she records every damn thing that happens to her during this pregnancy. And then, when he’s home, they’ll spend the night together reading it all, looking at all the photos and eating the biggest tub of ice cream they can find.

If Jake can’t be here, Amy has to be here for both of them.

It’s feels weird to Amy when she thinks back to a time when she and Jake weren’t Amy and Jake. When they were just best friends, when they were just partners, when they hated each other, when they were virtually strangers. When Amy first joined the squad at the Nine-Nine all those years ago, Jake was just an immature, childlike boy with some seriously amazing detective skills. She’ll never tell him, but she was so jealous. And she resented him. She resented him so much. This white, young male, who could get away with being so unprofessional - pranking people he didn’t even know and making fun of police commanders - but still was praised at every given opportunity for his amazing work. It’s always been so different for women. So different for Amy. Because she’s a strong, Latina women, and she can’t be too uptight, or at least that’s what everyone tells her, every man actually, but she can’t help it because that’s who she is, she’s Amy Santiago and she’s uptight.

It took Jake and Amy a while to stop fighting.

He was just so irritating. He loved joking around, and his new favourite person to make fun of seemed to be Amy. And she hated it. All she wanted to do was do her job and do it well. Of course she wanted people to like her (she's Amy Santiago, she cares about everything) and she wanted to have a relationship with her colleagues, but not if the only reason they wanted her around was because she was easy to play pranks on and make fun of.

But then came the first time she'd ever seen anyone held at gunpoint, and she was so scared, and Jake was so amazing. He managed to talk the gunman down and he was so calm and kind and Amy realised how smart she was, and from that moment on she knew she could trust him with her life. And they still bickered and she still made fun of her and sometimes she still hated him for it, and of course they were still competitive as hell towards each other, but something had changed. Now they weren't just partners, they were friends.

Amy feels like everyone knew about her and Jake before either of them even knew. Before he'd admitted his feelings to her and she'd admitted hers back, and then they'd kissed in the evidence lock-up and their relationship began. She was so afraid, afraid that things might not work out between them and work would be awkward - they're just such different people. She wasn't sure she'd ever stop being afraid, but she's not afraid now. Not now that she has Jake's baby inside of her and they are going to be parents.

They make the best team, in everything they do, and raising a child won't be any different.

**\- April -**

The last week of March flies by faster than Amy can comprehend, and then suddenly it has been three weeks since she last saw Jake, and then it’s been a whole month, and then, quicker than she can blink, she is ten weeks pregnant. A whole month without Jake, and a whole two-and-half-months pregnant. It’s weird how things balance each other out.

Everything is going great for Amy, even in Jake’s absence. Her team is working great together, her morning sickness has almost completely erased itself and she is pretty sure she can see the faint outline of a baby bump on her tanned stomach. But one thing is playing on her mind, and she knows Jake would be upset with her, but she hasn’t told Captain Holt that she is pregnant yet.

It’s an Amy issue, she knows that, and a deep-rooted, psychological one at that, but she can’t let this case go. She can’t, after all the work she and Rosa have put in the last few weeks, go on administration leave without solving it. And they are so, so close to a breakthrough; Amy just knows it. So she’ll tell Holt later. She’ll tell him after she has arrested Anna Rodriguez, after her baby bump is too big to hide. When she thinks the position she has been put in is too dangerous for the human growing inside of her, then she’ll tell him.

It’s a blisteringly hot Wednesday morning when Rosa stomps over Amy’s desk and slams a sheet of paper down in front of her.

“Oh! Wha-?” Amy says, blinking in surprise. She’s so tired, she always is, but it’s so much worse now because she can’t have coffee and Jake isn’t here to brighten her morning up.

“The toxicology report came back.” Rosa states simply, and Amy snatched the piece of paper from her hands.

“This is it! This is all we need!” Amy cries excitedly, looking down at the piece of paper which states that Me Rodriquez overdosed on morphine; a drug that would have been exceedingly easy for Anna to possess after working a busy shift in a hospital.

“And that’s not all,” Rosa says, holding one finger up to stop Amy, and Amy is pretty sure Rosa is smiling right now, so this must be good. “Talked to the apartment next door to Rodriguez’s, and they saw Anna leave the apartment at ten-fifty that night. That’s six minutes after Rodriguez’s estimated time of death.”

Amy rises to her feet and jumps up and down excitedly. Her back aches, her head is throbbing and the baby is making her feel more lethargic than she has in a long time, but it’s okay. This is a huge break in the case, and those always make her happy.

“Let’s call her in for questioning.” Amy shrugs, coughing awkwardly as she feels Rosa judge her happy dance.

A few hours later, Rosa and Amy sit in the interrogation room across from Anna Rodriguez, who is fiddling nervously with her hair and looks like she might vomit at any minute. Amy is almost entirely sure she is guilty, it’s nearly too obvious, but she still feels an uncomfortable feeling stirring in her belly, not unlike anxiety. She’s never loved questioning perps, and this seems even worse considering Anna is a mother. Amy can only imagine what it would be like to be ripped away from the life that is inside her at this very moment, only to be forced to spend a life sentence inside somewhere as awful as prison.

Amy isn’t sure why (maybe it’s the fact that they’re both mothers) but she feels a lot more sympathetic towards Anna now, and she almost wants to call the whole interrogation off.

Rosa flips through her notes before looking up at Anna, her face hard and her eyes steely. Everyone knows Rosa is the queen of interrogation.

“Is there anything you want to tell us before we begin?” Rosa asks carefully, not even a hint of expression on her face or in her voice.

Anna just shakes her head, and Amy can tell that she knows something is wrong.

“You’re a nurse, Anna, is that correct?” Rosa says, looking down at her notes on the table in front of her. Amy’s stomach churns uncomfortably.

“Yes, I’ve been a nurse for almost fifteen years.” Anna says with a nod, looking confused and somewhat frightened.

“That is... interesting.” Rosa says, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows when she looks up at Anna. Amy keeps her mouth glued shut, her lips pressed into a straight line as she watches Anna’s face drop. “I guess you’d admit that morphine is pretty easy for a nurse to get?”

“What do you mean?” Anna asks. She pauses, and then her face fills with realisation. “You think I did it. Don’t you? You think I did something.”

Rosa shrugs. “Did you? You seem awfully guilty for someone who hasn’t done anything?” She pauses.

Amy swallows. “We didn’t tell you how he died.”

“What?” Anna asks, looking over at Amy for the first time since the conversation started.

Amy squeezes her eyes closed and breathes heavily. _She has her now_. “We didn’t tell you how he died. Why did you immediately think of us accusing you when we brought up morphine.”

“I-“ Anna stutters. “You don’t have any proof.” She looks afraid, her eyes wide as she tries to seem to brave.

“You’re right. Not yet. But we’ll find some. You better believe we will.” Rosa clicks her tongue. “I’ll ask again. Is there anything you want to tell us?”

Anna slams her hands on the table. “Fuck you.”

Rosa’s eyes darken and she stands up abruptly. “Last chance,” she says, leaning over the table.

Anna’s eyes fill with tears and she stares straight up at Rosa. “Fuck. _You_.”

Rosa slams her fists on the table and for a second Amy is afraid that she might lunge towards Anna, but then she takes a deep breath and straightens her back. “Come on, Amy,” Rosa says angrily, stomping towards the door and throwing it open.

Amy fumbles for her things and then rushes out behind Rosa. Rosa is completely silent as she walks through the corridors of the precinct. Amy stumbles to keep up with her, but her brain is lagging back in the interrogation room, back with Anna, and her mind is racing.

Something seems wrong to Amy. Somethings_ wrong_. And she just can’t put her finger on it and she’s racking her brain and then she’s stopping in the middle of the corridor and then-

_Her father had a weird kind of control over her._

Her blood runs cold and her heart begins to thump much louder in her chest. Her head is rushing and she can’t move and _how is she only just realising this now?_

“I have to go back.” Amy whispers, but Rosa is far away now and she can’t hear her and Amy spins around on her heels. “I figured it out.”

She has to have it right. _She has to_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!  
i just wanted to drop in really quick and give you guys a trigger warning for sexual abuse and child abuse. i’ve definitely not made any of the content within this chapter (or any of the future chapters) too explicit, but if it is something that bothers you, triggers you or upsets you then please proceed with caution.  
thanks so much for reading as always <3

**\- April -**

Amy bursts into the interrogation room, not at all tired from sprinting but heart beating faster than it ever has before. She is sure she has figured it out, sure she knows what went wrong, and if she is right she doesn’t know how to feel.

Amy has never been good at processing things. She is smart, and her brain works lightening fast when she’s handed a maths equation or a crossword, but understanding people and their actions, getting into their heads, that’s more of a Jake thing. But this time, something has changed. Just a few, short weeks ago she couldn’t understand Anna Rodriquez at all, couldn’t relate to her, but now she understands. Anna is a mother, like Amy is, and she is scared, just like Amy, too. And no matter what she’s done, no matter what crime she’s committed, her fear has to be worth something, and Amy has to help her - if she can.

The door bangs against the wall when Amy pushes it open, and Anna jolts and looks up. Her dark eyes are laced with grey bags and she looks exhausted as usual, but her face is tear stained this time, and Amy feels so guilty. Feels guilty that the system has failed her, that it led her to this.

“What did he do to you?” Amy breathes, scared to say it, scared to make it real and scared to see how she reacts when she finds out the truth.

“Excuse me?” Anna asks quietly, and it is unclear to Amy whether she is asking because she didn’t hear or because she wants Amy to change what she has said, to go back on herself.

Amy lets the door swing closed behind her then walks forward until she is face-to-face with the other woman. “What did he do to you?” She asks again, more confident this time but still as gentle as she can be.

Anna swallows, averting her gaze, but Amy can see she has tears in her eyes again. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do, Anna,” Amy says softly, not taking her gaze off her. She needs her to admit it, needs her to tell her the truth before she can help her. “Please. Tell me. I can help.”

A tear rolls down Anna’s tanned cheek and she reaches up to furiously wipe it away. “I can’t. He... made me promise not to tell anyone.”

“He’s...” Amy is searching for the correct words, wondering how she should say it, “... gone, now, Anna.”

“I can’t.”

“It’s okay.” Amy reaches out and places a hand gently on Anna’s shoulder, and she’s not sure why she’s doing this, not sure why she’s being so kind to a murderer, but she has to know, has to help.

Anna blows out a long breath, tears spilling freely down her cheeks now, and her voice is very quiet when she starts to speak again. “I was six... I didn’t know... I didn’t know that he... that it was wrong... I...”

Amy’s heart hurts in her chest, her stomach flipping as a feeling of unease finds it’s way into her body. She’s right, isn’t she? This is bad.

“I didn’t know who to tell. I couldn’t... I didn’t tell my mom, and then they broke up and I... I had to stay because he told me if he didn’t then he’d hurt other girls and... I didn’t know, didn’t understand that he was lying.”

Amy imagines Jake’s hand on her waist, imagines he is here, helping her through this. Unconsciously, she places her free hand on her stomach, and she isn’t sure whether she is trying to comfort the baby or herself. All she knows is that thinking of her family makes her feel better right now.

“I was fifteen... when mom left, I mean. And it got so much worse.” Anna releases a strangled sob. “It wasn’t just him anymore, there were all these other men, too... he was an alcoholic and he didn’t work so... he sold me... he sold my body. No one knew... because I didn’t tell anyone... but I had to stay away from home, with all these other kids and then men would come to pay and they would...”

“I’m so sorry.” Amy chokes out, and she can barely say it because there is a lump in her throat and her eyes are filled with tears, and it isn’t professional to cry on the job but she’s not sure she has much of a choice now.

Amy has a decision to make, and she isn’t sure it’s going to be an easy one.

“I hated him... I still do... I... I had to do it. Had to get rid of him.” She pauses. “He was planning to give away money... to the same man who kept me there, who forced me to... I can’t even say it.”

She has her confession, but she doesn’t suppose she cares too much.

“You don’t have to.” Amy says. “This man, do you know his name?”

Anna shakes her head. “We knew him as Tom, but I don’t think that’s his real name. I don’t know,” she sobs.

Amy takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Anna.”

Memories flash through her head. Memories of every time a man has disrespected her, every time they have caused her pain. Memories of her old Captain trying to kiss her, telling her she didn’t deserve her promotion, that she shouldn’t be a detective and that she wasn’t good enough. Memories of her high school boyfriend breaking up with her because she wasn’t ready to sleep with him. Memories of every awful, abusive man before Jake came along. And she has to help her, she has to find a way, no matter what it takes.

Suddenly, Amy doesn’t care that the woman in front of her is a murderer, that she has done something unspeakable. This is much bigger than the two of them. This involves a potential paedophile ring, this involves other kids, this involves abuse and assault and Amy has to save them, she has to do this.

“I’m going to help you, Anna._ I promise_.”

-

The decision to hide the truth from Rosa and the rest of the precinct is not much of a conscious one, it just sort of happens. At the back of her mind, Amy is aware that she could lose her job for this, that she is not following the rules, that her future could be compromised, but this is bigger than her. And if Anna is arrested, if she is thrown in jail now, ‘Tom’ might never be investigated, all those kids might never be saved.

The choice not to admit the confession to Rosa and investigate the case alone goes hand in hand with the decision to hide her pregnancy from Holt for longer. She knows it’s wrong, knows she has to keep herself and the baby safe, but this is important.

And it might be a toxic way of doing it, but it’s distracting her from Jake, and she’ll do anything to forgot how things are for a little while.

The thought of being disciplined, of being suspended, maybe even fired... for once in Amy’s life, it makes her feel alive and not deathly afraid. The thought of solving a huge case on her own, of helping Anna and all the other children involved, it makes her feel even more alive, like she is waking up from this feeling of numbness that has lingered since Jake left last month. And maybe this isn’t like her, and maybe it isn’t the right way to do things (especially when you’re pregnant) but it’s making her feel better, a little bit less done with life, and that’s more than worth it to her.

At ten-and-a-half weeks pregnant, Amy’s stomach is just starting to round out. She can see the beginnings of a small, round baby-bump, and it fills her chest with this funny feeling, this nervousness that she hasn’t really ever felt in her life. She’s always been so prepared, so ready for everything. Since she was five years old, she’s had her entire future planned out, down to what she’d study, when she’d get married, when she’d have kids, and so far she’s followed the plan almost seamlessly. This is the right time, the right situation. She is in a healthy, happy marriage, they are both (or at least, she hopes) ready for children, but for some reason, the idea of becoming a mother is almost more terrifying to her than it is thrilling.

The morning sickness (or all-day sickness as Amy has begun to refer to it in her head) is starting to subside, but occasionally she still has a bought of nausea and has to excuse herself at work to go vomit in the bathroom. She still feels dizzy from time-to-time, but she hasn’t fainted since that day with Rosa, and Gina texts her a few times a week to see how she is. It makes Amy feel comforted, to know that at least one of her friends knows about the baby and to have a little of the support she so greatly needs (though she’d much rather it was Jake checking in on her - no offence to Gina).

One of the most annoying of Amy’s new pregnancy symptoms is cravings. Every book she’s read so far on pregnancy (she’s read fifteen of them, and it’s embarrassing. She should have read way more by now according to the Amy-Santiago-Pregnancy-List she’s stuck up on her - their - bedroom wall) has told her cravings this early in pregnancy isn’t considered as normal, but a quick call to the doctor reassured her that it was uncommon but not a cause for concern.

The thing is, Amy has always had complete control over her diet. She’s never been a fussy eater, never over-ate or under-ate. She has a list of foods she likes (in other words, meals she can actually cook without burning the apartment down, or meals that Jake can cook really well), and she sticks to them. She lives off healthy fishes and meats, green leafy vegetables and salads, and she plans and prepares her meals for the following week every Sunday evening. She’s always been in complete control, but now she’s having these cravings and it’s making it hard to plan everything out and, for Amy, that’s the most stressful thing in the world.

Today, she’s woken up with a massive craving for mango, which she imagines isn’t the worst craving in the world (at least it’s not coal or petrol or something unhealthy, like candy), but there isn’t any mango in the kitchen and she doesn’t have time to pick any up before work.

All throughout the morning briefing with Captain Holt and then her own with her team, she can’t stop thinking about mangos. And it’s weird, because she’s never really had a thing for mangos, but the thought of their texture, their taste, their juiciness, how refreshing they are - it’s making her mouth water.

Amy has planned to hide away in the supply closet again today and call Anna so she can work on tracking down ‘Tom’ and the rest of the sick members of the child-sex-ring she is investigating behind everyone’s backs, but she just can’t stop thinking about mango, so much so that she stomps up the stairs to the detectives floor and races to the kitchen. She quickly slams open the door to the refrigerator and searches through the fruit shelve, and no, there’s nothing, but then...

There is one mango yogurt on the top shelf on the fridge.

Grinning happily, she grabs the yogurt and rips the lid off as quickly as possible. She retrieves a spoon and scoops a large spoonful into her mouth, and it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. She closes her eyes and savours the texture, and she can’t wait till Jake is home so she can make him go out and get her this exact yogurt every time she’s craving it.

“Santiago? Are you eating my mango yogurt?”

Amy’s eyes flash open, and she sees Terry before her, a sad look on his face. She glances between him and the yogurt, eyes wide and whole body frozen, then slowly places the yogurt down behind her.

Amy shakes her head furiously. “No! Of course not!” She says, her voice more high-pitched than usual, and Terry raises his eyebrows at her questioningly. She sighs, holding her hands up. “Okay. Fine. I ate it.”

“Hey, not cool, man. That was my last one.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest and looking thoroughly disappointed. “Terry loves mango yogurt.”

“I’m sorry. I was just really craving mangos and... I’m sorry. I can go out and get you some more?” Amy offers, fumbling for the yogurt and looking at the brand.

Terry shakes his head. “Self control, Santiago. Self control.”

He walks off, and Amy just wants to scream that she’s pregnant and it’s not her fault, and she knows Terry is partly joking and that he loves her, even if she did just eat his favourite yogurt, but she just wants to cry. He’s right, it is about self control, and even if she is pregnant, it’s not an excuse to let herself go.

If Jake were here, none of this would be happening.

If Jake were here, she’d be able to keep herself in check.

She slams the yogurt down on the kitchen counter and storms through the bullpen. She can sense peoples eyes on hers, and she can hear Charles running behind her telling her that ‘_it’s okay to miss Jake’_, but that’s not what this is about. Not completely, anyways.

It’s not just about missing Jake, it’s about her. It’s about her not trying hard enough to stop Jake from going. It’s about her stupid body deciding to get pregnant just as soon as he was going away. It’s about her not trying hard enough to contact him, to tell him about the baby and bring him home. It’s about her being a coward. And it’s about her being so obsessive and compulsive and whatever else she is that she is willing to put her life and her baby’s life in danger just for a fucking adrenaline rush.

Amy pushes Captain Holt’s door open without knocking (definitely a first for her). He looks up with a shocked expression on his face, clearly surprised and disgusted that someone has such a lack of manners and that that someone is Amy Santiago.

“I’m taking my lunch early, sir.” She says, and turns to walk away. No knock, no please, no thank you, and no closing the door behind her.

When she turns round, Charles is standing in front of her, and he reaches out as if to touch her shoulder, and she’s so sick of everyone’s pity so she smacks his hand away from her.

“Amy...” he begins softly, but he looks shocked by her outburst.

“Go away, Charles. Please. You can’t always make everything better.” She snaps, pushes past him and heads for the elevator.

-

Amy doesn’t start to feel bad about it until she’s sat on a bench in the streets of Brooklyn, stuffing a sandwich full of street meat into her face (is she supposed to be eating this crap when she’s pregnant? She can’t remember what the books said, and that’s another frustrating pregnancy symptom that’s appeared in the last week, and Amy hates it). Amy Santiago isn’t an angry person, or a mean one for that matter. She’s obsessive, easily annoyed, sure. But not angry. Not like she was today.

She feels bad about eating Terry’s yogurt. She feels bad about not knocking on Captain Holt’s door. She feels bad about shoving Charles out of the way. She feels bad about avoiding Rosa so she doesn’t have to tell her about Anna’s confession and hand the case over to her when she tells everyone she’s pregnant.

But most of all, she feels bad for Jake. She feels bad for putting his baby in danger, but she doesn’t know how she’ll cope with his absence if she doesn’t have this case.

Anything to survive.

At some point, someone sits down next to her, and it takes her a while to realise that that someone is someone she knows.

“My apologies for following you here, Santiago. However, I thought I should ensure that you are okay.”

She swallows her bite slowly and turns her head to look at her Captain. He continues looking straight forward, not making eye contact with Amy.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have-“

“Please do not apologise. I understand that you miss Peralta.” His tone is plain as usual, but Amy can tell that he cares. He sees Jake as his little boy, and Amy is Jake’s wife, and she wishes she could tell Holt that she is carrying Jake’s baby, but she can’t. Not yet. Because she needs to solve this case. She has to, for her own sanity.

“I do, sir.” Amy concludes, tears of sadness and frustration stinging her eyes.

“I miss him, too.” Holt says, finally turning his head to look her in the eye.

“I miss him so much,” Amy sighs, her eyes darting away from his quickly and her hand coming up to wipe away the tears that are starting to roll down her cheeks. “But that’s no excuse for how I acted earlier. I promise I’ll do better, sir. I’m just feeling a little... lost just now.”

“That is quite alright, Santiago.” Holt says, and then he reaches into his pocket. “I visited the store before coming to find you.” He pulls the object out his pocket and reads the front, as if checking it once more, then holds it out to Amy. “I hope this will satisfy your craving.”

Amy looks down, and he is handing her a small box of pre-prepared mango, and now she is crying even more. It’s the stupid pregnancy hormones, she tells herself, not the fact that Captain Holt, her mentor, father figure and inspiration bought her something in the hopes of making her feel even a tiny bit better.

“Thank you, sir,” she says, and she really wants to hug him, but instead she just takes the mango and offers him a small smile.

He nods. “I hope it will be satisfactory, Santiago.” He stands up slowly, then turns to her. “Please add an extra half-hour onto your lunch break today, then return to the precinct feeling better than you did earlier.”

Amy nods, wiping away her tears and making a mental promise to herself that she won’t start crying again. “Okay, sir. I will. Thank you.”

And then he is walking back to the precinct.

Amy takes a walk in the warm weather and eats her mango, then heads back to the precinct and tries her best to be better. For herself. For Holt. For Jake.

-

That night, she calls Gina. It’s not exactly because she feels Gina is the best person to call in this situation, that she’ll be sympathetic and comforting and have the best advice ever for Amy, but because Gina is the only person that knows about the baby. She kind of dreads talking to her about it, actually, and as the phone rings she thinks about hanging up.

But she’s still thankful when Gina picks up.

“Hello? Gina?” Amy says, feeling somewhat nervous and still upset and stressed from earlier.

“Iggy! Give me my freaking phone back! Seriously, dude, not cool!” Gina shouts on the other end of the phone, and then there’s a rustling noise and then, “_Amyyyy_! Hey, girl. I was about to tell you that this is why you should never have kids but then I remembered - _oops_, too late!”

Amy tries to laugh (Gina is funny, really) but she can’t. “I had a really crappy day today.”

“Aww, boo. Did someone lose your paperwork again?”

Amy knows Gina is joking, making fun of her almost, but she’s just happy to have someone to talk to, so she ignores it.

“I ate Terry’s yogurt because I was really craving mangos and it was the only thing in the precinct that had mangos in it and he was kind of mad at me but, like, not really but I was upset and I yelled at Charles and I just feel bad and-“

“Woahhh, slow down.” Gina interrupts. “You seriously think Terry cares that you ate his yogurt?”

Amy sighs. “It was the last one. And I just feel so awful because they don’t know I’m pregnant so they just think I’m being a total jerk, you know?”

Gina laughs. “Terry literally looks at his all as his kids. His weird, old, really-super-dumb-sometimes kids. He’d never actually be mad at you for eating a yogurt.

“Yeah, I know... but I also was really mean to Boyle and I feel kind of guilty.” Amy pauses. “I don’t know how to apologise for what I did without explaining why I did it and if I explain then he’ll know and I already feel guilty that you know before Jake does.”

“Have you been getting much sleep, Amy?”

The truth is, no. Amy has not been getting much sleep. Not since last week when she found out about the sex-ring and decided to investigate it. She hasn’t actually gotten round to doing a lot of investigating because she’s been busy at work and she doesn’t want anyone to know she’s investigating something, but that’s been making her feel really guilty because she promised Anna she’d help her and what has she _actually_ done so far? Nothing. So at night, she’s been lying awake trying to either brainstorm investigation ideas or feeling guilty for not doing anything about this whole situation yet, or thinking about how mad Jake would be if he found out she was still doing fieldwork right now, so she’s not been sleeping much.

“I guess not...” Amy trails off, because now she realises why she is so emotional and she feels stupid for not realising earlier.

“When you have all those weird baby-hormones floating around your body you really gotta get some good sleep,” Gina says matter-of-factly, and Amy remembers once more that she’s been in this situation before. “You should get some sleep and I guarantee you’ll feel like a million bucks tomorrow.”

Amy nods. “You’re right,” she sighs. “Thanks, Gina. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“T-T-Y-L, Ames. Night!”

Amy finishes her third bowl of mango of the night (she picked up some from the store on the way home because the one Holt bought her just made her crave the taste more) and heads to bed, her mind full of hopes for a more positive day tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed it!   
it’s not as long as usual but i rly wanted to get a chapter to you guys asap so hopefully you can forgive me  
once again, i am disgustingly bad at writing gina so i’m sorry <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi!
> 
> i hope you guys had a great halloween!
> 
> i just wanted to say i’m so sorry this fic takes me a while to update. the chapters are usually a little longer than i’m used to and i have a lot going on at uni rn, but please believe me, i promise i’m going to finish this fic! i have it all planned out, i just want it to be extra good! 
> 
> i rly want to start an instagram acc so i can interact with you guys more but i can’t figure out a way to get it to stop recommending me to my irls, even through using a dif email! it sucks but i’ll keep trying! 
> 
> let me know what you guys think of this chapter! as always, thanks for reading! <3

**\- April -**

Collecting statements and evidence has always been Amy’s favourite part of the job (next to the paperwork, of course), and it’s no different now, even if her investigation is behind the backs of her superior officers.

Anna’s statement is helpful, though mostly what it does is confirm all of Amy’s suspicions.

Anna was repeatedly sexually assaulted by her father, Mr Rodriguez, from the age of six. She was coerced into hiding it from her mother by her father, who said that if she told her mother, they would divorce, and it would be Anna’s fault. So she kept it to herself. Her parents eventually divorced when she was fifteen after her father was caught spending their savings at strip-clubs and on booze and prostitutes, and Anna agreed to stay with her father after he told her that he would only hurt other girls if she went with her mother, and that by staying with him, she was saving others from stumbling into the same fate as her. She promised never to contact her mother again.

Two months after her mother left, Anna suspected her father was up to no good. He was an alcoholic and was unemployed, yet he was donating large amounts of money and earning even more back. When he finally revealed that he was involved with a child-sex-ring, he forced Anna to go and stay there, and he and the boss, ‘Tom’, profited off of the money they made by selling her and around ten other children’s bodies.

When she turned eighteen, none of ‘Tom’s’ clients were interested in her any longer so she was forced to go home. She had no qualifications, no formal education, so she moved into a hostel and landed a job as a waitress. She saved up, went to college, qualified as a nurse, moved into an apartment and had her two boys.

Her life was relatively happy for a while, but then she was contacted by the nursing home local to her father, who said he no longer wished to stay there but that he was not capable of caring for himself. She agreed to care for him with the intent of killing him almost immediately, but she was a good person and couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she fell back into his grasp. He promised her that he had grown out of his old ways and apologised to her, and so she cared for him for a few years.

It was only a few months ago, when she found a cheque for $500,000 addressed to the business she knew to be a coverup for the sex-ring, that she snapped. She realised he was planning on putting all the money he had earned from the sick business back into it, so she drugged him with enough morphine to finish him off. She didn’t feel guilty, not one bit. He was a sick man and she still doesn’t regret it, or at least that’s what she tells Amy.

Anna is able to provide Amy with the cheque, which allows Amy to see that the alleged coverup business for the paedophile ring is a car rental business under the title of Johnston’s located just outside of Bedford-Stuyvesant.

Amy spends a few days thinking it over. She’s just over eleven weeks pregnant, not passed the first trimester yet, and her baby books have told her that this is the period of time where the risk of miscarriage is the highest. Coupled with her age and the stress she is putting herself under, she imagines she isn’t making it _particularly_ easy for the baby in her stomach.

On one hand, if anything happened to the baby she would never be able to forgive herself, especially if it was her fault. But on the other, Jake has been gone for over a month, and she isn’t coping with it. Whenever it’s quiet, all she can think about is him, and how much she misses him, and how worried about him she is. This case is distracting her, and like she’s told herself a million times before, this case goes further than just her and her family. It’s about Anna and all the other victims, and she has to help.

So she Google’s the number for Johnston’s Car Rentals and calls it.

The voice that answers the call is a mans, low and scratchy, and a shiver runs down Amy’s spine when she considers the possibility that the voice she is hearing could be Tom’s. But she pushes through.

“I’d like to rent a car please.”

And that’s how Amy ends up driving across Brooklyn to the opposite side of Bed Stuy on her day off of work.

She struggles to concentrate on driving, which she knows is unsafe. She _knows_ she shouldn’t be driving right now, that she isn’t in the right frame of mind, but she does it anyway. She could’ve taken a cab, _should’ve_, but she’s driving anyway. Amy has never been one to take unnecessary risks before, but Jake being gone has really changed the way she treats life.

  
She wonders what kind of environment she is going to be walking into? Will it be hostile from the get go? Or will there be a fake, friendly layer to it? She reaches into her purse as she continues to drive and locates her gun, makes sure she hasn't forgotten it. It's important, just in case. Just as the bulletproof vest tucked under her jacket is important. She has to look into this case and help these young girls, but she can't put her baby’s life in danger. She would never forgive herself if something bad happened.

Amy tries to listen to the radio for some distraction and to help her concentrate on driving, but the first station she turns on is playing Taylor Swift and it reminds her of Jake too much, so she turns it off and drives in silence. It's not a long drive, but it's a long enough period for her mind to be unoccupied that she starts to think, and being left alone with her thoughts is pretty much torture to Amy right now.

She wonders how long she can keep this up, how long she can hide her pregnancy for. She suspects not for much longer, because at just eleven weeks pregnant it is scary how much her bump is already showing. She tries to think up a plan for how she might continue to investigate this case after announcing her pregnancy without ignoring Captain Holt's direct orders for desk duty, but her mind is just starting to work when she pulls up beside the car rental service, and suddenly she is here.

The front of the building has a big, shiny sign that states the name of the business. It looks new and expensive, but it does nothing to distract from the overall grime and filthiness of the building. Amy shivers, because even the building itself looks unnerving, eerie.

Amy drives past the building and parks way down the street. The last thing she needs is someone questioning why she needed to rent a car when she already has one with her.

The sign on the glass door says open, but Amy isn’t going in through the front. She grabs her gun, makes sure it is loaded and tucks it back into her purse, before swinging the purse over her shoulder and exiting the vehicle. There is no breeze in the air, so Amy’s surroundings are eerily still as she creeps her way towards the building, coming at it from a side angle.

There are cars parked up around the back of the building, and they are all shiny and new. Amy wonders how they launder their money here, how they make it seem realistic that they might be able to afford cars like these through such a small business, but she supposes that’s not really what’s important about this situation. She ties her hair out of her face as she walks but keeps her head down. There’s no one around but just in case someone appears, it’s important she doesn’t make eye contact with him, that she doesn’t look suspicious.

Around back, she finds a garage type set up, with smaller, older looking cars all around and a small area that looks to be set up for car washing. Amy makes her way through the rusty, grimy cars, looking all around her for anything that may be suspicious, listening carefully while trying to keep as quiet as she can.

In the corner of the room is a small, unlabelled door. Amy tilts her head, wondering if this could be anything of importance, and decided to check it out. It could be something or it could be nothing, but if she doesn’t check it then she knows she’ll regret it later. She approaches the door and reaches into her handbag, her fingers locating her gun as she turns the door handle.

“_Hey_!”

Amy flinches. She tries to straighten her face and paints a smile onto it, turning around slowly with a thick swallow.

“We don’t have customers ‘round here,” an older man in a suit says. He looks clean and respectable, but the way he talks tells Amy that he might not be exactly what he appears to be.

“Oh? I’m so sorry,” Amy says in the sweetest voice she can muster. “I thought this was the way in.”

“Mmm,” the man says, and Amy can instantly tell that he is suspicious. She internally curses herself for not checking behind her before approaching the door. “Names James. How can I help you, sweetheart?”

Amy swallows. “I called earlier... about a car...? It should be under Jeffords.” She knows Terry would be _so_ angry if he knew she’d used his daughters name as a cover, but it was the first thing that popped into her head when she called.

“Follow me ‘round front and I’ll help you out,” James says, but he is giving Amy a strange look that tells her he doesn’t quite trust her.

_And_ that he has something to hide.

She nods in agreement and follows James back around the building to the front. She is thankful that they can now be seem, that something awful will not befall her around the back of a car rental business.

The inside of the building is clean but old-fashioned, and Amy takes a seat on a red leather sofa just inside of the door. She clutches her handbag close as James approaches the desk and takes a look in the book.

“Ava, right?” James asks, glancing at her, and Amy almost physically shivers at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah,” she replies with a forced smile. “Ava Jeffords.” If he tried to search for an Ava Jeffords, he’d find nothing. She’s five, and more importantly, she isn’t a cop.

“Alright, Miss Jeffords,” he says, then he catches sight of the ring on her finger and corrects himself, “_Mrs_. I have your car parked right outside.”

-

Amy drives around aimlessly in the car she has rented for a few hours, angry at herself for failing to find anything. She can’t do this again or else it would look suspicious, so she’s going to have to find a new way of going about things, and that is going to be difficult. She has no idea what her next step is, but for now, she just has to waste three hours then return the car.

“Great, all I need is the keys and thirty-six-dollars,” James says as she climbs out of the car upon her return.

She hands him the keys to the car and forty dollars in cash, because her credit card most definitely doesn’t say Ava Jeffords on it.

Amy waits until James is back inside the shop before she approaches her own car across the street. She sighs as she climbs in, a mix of disappointment in herself and disgust at James running through her body. She wonders if even knows what he is helping to cover up. Could he be ‘Tom’? There isn’t anything to prove that Tom isn’t a cover up name, so he could be. She wonders how someone could be capable of such a heinous crime as she starts her car up and drives away.

-

Amy calls Anna when she arrives home.

Anna picks up after two rings. “Sergeant Santiago? Hello?”

Amy winces. She usually loves to hear her surname beside ‘Sergeant’, but right now it’s reminding her that she is in a position of authority and she shouldn’t be hiding a murdered from her colleagues. “You can call me Amy,” she says, not because Anna is her friend but because she can’t bare to hear her title again.

“Alright, Amy,” Anna says, trailing off. “Did you... did you find anything?”

Amy sighs. “I visited Johnston’s Car Rental Service today but I... no, I haven’t found anything.” She pauses, failing to tell Anna that the reason that she hasn’t found anything is because of her own stupidity, that because she wasn’t careful enough she missed out on her first opportunity to bring down a child-sex-ring. “You’re sure it’s the right place?”

“Definitely.” Anna says without missing a beat. “It’s the right place.”

“I’ll keep looking,” Amy says. “I promise. I won’t stop until those children are safe.” She shouldn’t promise, she knows that, but she’s breaking so many rules already that it almost doesn’t matter.

Amy hears other voices in the background of the call, and then Anna says, “Boys, mommy’s on the phone. No. Yes. I-“ Anna sighs. “I have to go, Amy. I can call you back later?”

“No, it’s okay. That was everything.” Amy says. “Thanks.”

The line goes dead, and Amy sighs, sinking back into the seat. She rubs her hands over her face, feeling more stressed than she ever has before.

  
This is a difficult case. A really difficult case. And she could really use a helping hand with it, like Jake’s or... or Rosa’s. She feels guilty for hiding it from Rosa and, truth be told, Amy isn’t sure she’ll even be able to solve this case without Rosa’s help, especially with all the responsibilities of being pregnant and taking care of an unborn child.

She thinks about telling Rosa, and Amy knows she can probably trust her but maybe she can’t. And if she _can’t_, she’s blown it. She’ll have the case taken off her, Anna will go straight to jail for murder and Tom might never even be investigated. No, she can’t tell Rosa unless she absolutely has to.

Amy retrieves her ice cream from the freezer, applies a face mask and turns on a movie. She has to chill out, because stressing isn’t good for the baby and she has to put the baby first for once, or else what kind of mother will she be?

-

Amy is avoiding Rosa again, which is particularly difficult today because she is working on Rosa’s floor, helping Boyle complete some paperwork that he has been having some difficulty with. Amy hasn’t spoken to Rosa in around a week, because she desperately has to avoid her or she might say something she shouldn’t.

Thankfully, Rosa is on lunch right now and Amy suspects she will be done with the paperwork before Rosa is back, so she works away diligently and ignores Boyle’s attempts at small talk. He mostly asks over-complicated questions about Amy’s life that Amy can tell he is only asking to see how she is doing without Jake, and she doesn’t want to talk about Jake right. She wishes people would stop bringing him up. It’s painful for her and no one seems to understand that.

Amy checks her watch and sighs. It’s her lunch time, and even though she desperately wants to finish the paperwork, she has to admit she is hungry.

“I’m just going to eat.” Amy tells Charles before getting up and walking towards the kitchen.

She gets halfway through the bullpen when her phone vibrates in her pocket, so she takes it out to read the text. It’s from Gina, asking her how she’s doing, and Amy has only just started to type a response when she hears someone clear their throat in front of her.

“Santiago.”

Amy jumps and looks up from her phone, and standing in front of her is Rosa Diaz. “Oh, Rosaaaaa. Hey! How are you... bro?” Amy forced out with a huge smile, offering her fist for Rosa to bump.

Rosa stares pointedly at Amy’s wrist then back up at her face, ignoring her offer of a fist bump. “Are you avoiding me?”

“_Whaaaaat?_ No, of course not!” Amy says, widening her eyes and holding her hands up in mock disbelief.

“You’re avoiding me.” Rosa concludes. “Why?” She snorts. “It’s not like I care, I just want to tell you something.”

Amy nods. “Okay, shoot.” She replies, trying and failing to act as naturally as possible.

“Jocelyn and I got engaged,” Rosa says blankly. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

She makes off, but Amy grabs her arm to stop her. “What? Congratulations, Rosa! That’s amazing.”

“Thanks, Santiago.” Rosa says, with a hint of a smile and a small nod. “Actually, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

Amy nods. “Go ahead!” She wants to apologise to Rosa for avoiding her but she can’t admit to it. There’s a thin line between what she can and can’t tell Rosa without her working it out, because at the end of the day Rosa is a detective, and detectives are remarkably good at sniffing out lies.

“I wanna ask Jake to be my best man,” Rosa says slowly. “But since he’s not here right now and you’re... you know, pretty good at planning stuff, I wanted to ask you if you’d take over his job for now.”

“Rosa, I would be honoured,” Amy says through the tears in her eyes, pressing her hand to her chest. It is heartwarming that Rosa wants Amy to help, but it makes Amy even more happy that she wants to ask Jake to be her best man at the wedding. It will make him so happy, Amy knows it.

“Cool,” Rosa says awkwardly, smiling a little. “Don’t cry or I’m gonna throw you out that window, Santiago.”

Amy clears her throat, blinking back her tears. “Right! I’m sorry.” She pauses. “So, when do you wanna start? We should start soon, we don’t want to fall behind on planning! That would be a disaster and-“

“We haven’t even set a date,” Rosa says calmly. “I’ll let you know when I need your help.”

Amy nods. “Right. Sure,” she says, trying to act cool.

Rosa begins to walk away, before throwing one last comment over her shoulder. “We can work on the Rodriguez case at the same time.”

Amy winces. “Yeah. Yeah, of course we can. No reason not to.” She swallows. “Not at all.”

Amy realises then and there that, if she's going to keep this up, she has to come up with a better excuse to tell Rosa. As important as this case is to her, her friendship with Rosa is way more important to Amy, and she has to find a way to keep both of them up at once. The idea of Rosa admitting that Amy is her friend through asking her to help plan her wedding is enough for Amy to know that she needs to be more gentle with Rosa. She doesn't want to hurt her, not when Rosa is opening up.

Amy eats lunch in the break room, and Charles enters not long after her. He has his lunch in his hands and, when he sits down across from Amy, he looks almost desperate to say something.

"Spit it out, Boyle," Amy sighs, not defensively, more softly. She doesn't want anyone to feel like, just because Jake's gone, Amy isn't interested in them anymore.

"If it wasn't obvious earlier, I've been trying to work out how you're doing all day," Charles says, looking up from his lunch at Amy.

"I know, Charles," Amy says with a small smile. "And I appreciate it."

"So," Charles begins. "How _are_ you doing?" 

Amy sighs. "I'm doing okay. Really, I am. Thank you for asking."

Boyle nods slowly, then plants a wide smile on his face. "Let me show you a picture of Nikolaj with his new puppy! You’re gonna love it!”

Amy lets Boyle show her two-hundred photos of Nikolaj and his new puppy, not because she wants to see them or particularly cares about the dog, but because he is her friend and she loves him. She loves all of her friends, and she tells herself she needs to start showing it more often. She needs to start appreciating them, because in her darkest hours, they have always been there for her. _Every single time_.

  
-

When Amy gets home, she sends Kylie a text to tell her how much she loves her and that she misses her. Kylie doesn’t live near, which is sometimes difficult for Amy, especially on nights like this.

Since realising earlier today how awful she has been to her friends (in particular, Rosa, who she has been avoiding, and Boyle, who has written off as irritating when all he wants is to make sure she is okay), Amy has felt down. She feels sad, which she imagines is a mix of regretting the way she has been treating her friends and feeling lonely.

Amy tried to watch a movie, but all she can think about is how empty the apartment is, so she reads an entire pregnancy book, but when she finishes she is more anxious than she was before and it is only half an hour later than it was before.

So she calls Gina.

“Amy Santiago!” Gina exclaims cheerily when she enters the call.

Amy laughs a little. “Gina Linetti,” she says in a happy voice.

“You sound, kind of, sad...?” Gina says in a questioning voice. “What’s wrong?”

Amy sighs. “I’m a little lonely.” She pauses. “Could I... could I come round and visit you?”

Gina is silent for a moment. “Sure, if it makes you feel better. But I can’t promise I won’t make fun of you.”

Amy laughs. Good old Gina. “I’ll forgive you. I’m pretty easy to make fun of.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Gina snorts.

-

Amy arrives at Gina’s apartment an hour after with takeout in tow. Gina wanted sushi, which Amy can’t eat because she’s pregnant, so she went to two separate restaurants for their food.

“You’d better really appreciate this sushi,” Amy groans as she thrusts it into Gina’s hands. “I was standing in line for, like, fifteen minutes.”

“Cry me a river, bitch.” Gina smirks as she moves aside to let Amy inside.

Amy flashes Gina a smile as she looks around the apartment. “Where’s Iggy?”

“She’s at her dads,” Gina says with a shrug. Amy almost forgot about Gina separating from Milton, and she feels a little sad for her friend for a second. But then she remembers Gina is hardy as nails and fully capable of raising her little girl alone. “Now!” Gina says, sitting down on her couch and crossing one leg over another. “What have I missed?”

“Oh!” Amy exclaims when she remembers about Rosa’s engagement. She sits down and tells Gina the story over dinner, but fails to throw in the fact that she has, in fact, been avoiding Rosa and that she is avoiding her due to working a potentially dangerous case on her own whilst pregnant.

Her friends don’t have to know everything, _right_?

-

Amy sleeps on Gina’s couch and in the morning, Gina wakes her up with a plate of warm pancakes and bacon, and she appreciates her friends all over again.

“You’re pregnant, boo. You need to eat.” Gina tells her with a shrug, and Amy smiles softly.

And for the first time since Jake went undercover, Amy feels real, actual happiness. She remembers that she isn’t alone, that there are people who love her all around her that she can lean on, and the most important thing Amy realises is that -

_She can do this._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey lovelies! 
> 
> i first want to thank you guys so much for over 100 kudos! i’ve never gotten so many on a fanfic and i’m just so thankful for all of you guys, especially the ones who read every update, so thank you! 
> 
> i also wanted to mention that i have made an instagram that you guys can follow me on if you like! my username is @sargesantiago and i’m happy to chat to you guys and answer questions on there! 
> 
> enjoy the chapter! :)

**\- May -**

Almost two years ago, on May 15th, Amy Santiago married Jake Peralta at the most beautiful wedding she could’ve ever dreamed of, surrounded by all of their family in friends in the place that is the safest to them in the entire world, New York’s Ninety-Ninth Police Precinct.

May is supposed to be a happy month for Amy and Jake. They are supposed to celebrate together, maybe go for a fancy dinner at an expensive restaurant and spend a romantic night away at a luxury hotel. They are supposed to spend the day together, cuddling and kissing each other and celebrating their relationship, their marriage.

That’s how it’s supposed to go, but unfortunately, Jake is undercover, undertaking a dangerous and potentially life-threatening mission to rid New York of one of its biggest drug rings, and Amy is at home, pregnant and alone.

So when Amy wakes up on May first and remembers the date, she doesn’t feel happy like she should. No. She feels worse than the day Jake left, more alone than ever.

Amy is trying damn hard to appreciate all the good things in her life right now, like all of her friends and her parents and her brothers and her mother-in-law, but it’s just so _difficult_. All she can think about when she wakes up on the first day of May is that in fifteen days, just over two weeks, she and Jake will have been married for two whole years and he isn’t even here to celebrate it with her. He is miles away, pretending to be someone who isn’t Jake Peralta and trying to forget all about her.

She knows it’s the nature of his job and that he has to do it for the safety of all of New York, but it’s hard to forgive him right now, for leaving her in the most vulnerable state she has ever been in and being unable to contact her for the entire time he is away.

May first is Amy’s day off, which is unfortunate because right now she could really use work to distract her from all of this, so instead, she jumps straight back into researching Johnston’s Car Rental Service. She needs to know everything about it if she wants to have even a chance of taking them down, or at least that’s what she tells herself.

It doesn’t take long for Amy to find out the owner of the business and, as it turns out, it is the same man that she spoke to a week ago, when she failed to dig up any solid evidence or proof of the sex-slavery going on there and instead wasted three hours driving around aimlessly in a rental car.

“Aha,” she murmurs when she finds him, ignoring once again that she has started to talk to herself. The apartment is too quiet without Jake here making stupid jokes and poking fun at Amy, but she makes up for it plenty by filling the silence with her own voice. It’s a coping mechanism. “Is your name really James?”

She scrolls down, examining the page, and her blood goes cold as she reads the name of the man she met only a week prior.

James Thomas Johnston.

Thomas.

_Tom_.

Amy shudders at the realisation that the man she spoke to is Tom, that he is the man that is inflicting such horror on young children and that she has stood face to face with him, conversed with him. She studies his face, disgusted, and decides once and for all that she is going to solve this case. One way or another, she’s going to do this.

There isn’t much available online about James Thomas Johnston’s background life. Amy can’t find a shred of information about his parents, his home life, his family. Nothing.

She wracks her brain, tries desperately to think of a way to get close to him again, to better investigate him, but it’s difficult without someone to bounce her ideas off of. It’s almost impossible to hatch a plan to prove what Tom is doing and take him down without anyone there to help her, but she has no one to go to, no one she can guarantee is one-hundred-and-ten-percent trustworthy. Amy feels incredibly guilty for thinking that, for not trusting Charles or Terry or Rosa with this. They’re her best friends and she loves them, but this is different. If they were to tell Holt she was investigating behind his back, she’d definitely be at least suspended, and Holt may never look at her the same way again. And if they found out she was investigating while pregnant, well, it might be even worse.

No, she can’t tell anyone. For now, and possibly for the next while, she has to keep this to herself.

Or at least that’s the plan.

-

Amy sighs, turning to the side and glancing at her profile in the mirror. She scrunches her face up in frustration, running her hands over her stomach.

At just twelve and a half weeks pregnant (Amy is massively relieved to finally be past her first trimester), her baby bump is already beginning to stretch her tight sergeants uniform and make it difficult for her to continue to hide her pregnancy.

“Damn it,” she mutters as she runs her hands over her bump, staring at the creases in her shirt fabric where her stomach is more than clearly stretching it. “Look, I love you, but you’re not exactly making life easy for mama right now.”

Amy bites her lip. She knows she can’t hide this for much longer, her bump, her pregnancy. And she wants to tell everyone, she really does. They could all use some good news. But as soon as she tells everyone, she has a choice to make. A choice between obeying Holt’s commands and condoning herself to desk duty, giving all the case information over to Rosa and possibly watching Anna immediately be thrown into prison where, Amy has to admit, she does sort of belong in a way, or ignoring Holt and continuing to investigate behind his back, a move which could jeopardise her career and Holt’s trust in her.

She finally gives up trying to hide her baby bump and pulls a jumper over her head.

If anyone asks, she’ll just tell them she’s cold.

At the precinct, Amy skips Holt’s morning briefing (something she has never done before unless due to an important doctors or dentists appointment) and begins to scribble down a script. She is nothing if not organised, and announcing her pregnancy will be no different. When the time comes, and she’s not sure when it will but she’s sure it will come along eventually, she wants to be prepared. She wants to have a script, be rehearsed, and know exactly what she’s saying. It will make things easier, or at least it always has before.

She is almost halfway done when her uniformed officers arrive on her floor. Hurriedly, she folds the script up and stuffs it into her breast pocket, then pulls some paperwork from a few days ago out.

She is just getting started on it when she hears a voice from behind her.

“Santiago.”

Amy almost jumps out of her skin. She spins around in her chair, staring up at Holt with the most innocent look she can muster, smiling at him.

“Sir!” She exclaims, possibly a little too happily.

Holt’s expression is unreadable. “A word, please?”

Amy’s stomach churns as she nods, stands up and follows Holt into a nearby empty room. Is he mad at her for missing his briefing? Has he figured it out? Oh God, he’s figured it out, hasn’t he? What part has he figured out? What part would be worse for him to have figured out?

Holt turns to Amy once the door is closed with one eyebrow raised.

“Sir, I’m sorry I wasn’t at the morning briefing, I-“

“Is everything alright, Santiago?” Holt interjects, looking Amy dead in the eye. “You are always punctual and not once in the seven years I have known you have you missed one of my morning briefings. In fact, I am quite sure I recall you referring to them as your favourite part of the day.”

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry-“ Amy winces, but Holt keeps talking.

“If there is anything you wish to tell me, Santiago, you should tell me now.”

Amy swallows. Should she tell him now? Is it the right thing to do? But then what does she do with Anna’s case? It’s a moral dilemma much too large for Amy, and she stands there for a moment, frozen, unsure what to do.

Finally, she slowly shakes her head. “No, sir. There’s nothing.”

Holt looks at her suspiciously. “Very well,” he says, turning towards the door.

Amy’s mouth opens before her brain has a chance to consider all her options. “Wait!” She exclaims, and Holt turns back to her so now she doesn’t have a choice. “I’d like to request the floor for a little while tomorrow after the morning briefing. Just you and I, Boyle, Diaz and Jeffords, sir.”

Holt stares at her for a moment and then nods. Amy breaths a sigh of relief. “That can be arranged.”

When Holt leaves the room, Amy runs a hand through her hair then straightens out her uniform. She is terrified and she doesn’t have anywhere near long enough to finish her script, but she feels somewhat relieved, more comfortable knowing that by this time tomorrow, her secret will be out in the open.

Her mouth involuntarily curls into a smile and her hand finds her little bump. She goes about the rest of her day as normal, as if tomorrow things aren’t going to change forever.

Amy finishes her script by midnight and folds it up neatly, tucking it into the pocket of her fresh uniform and leaving it there for the following day. She sinks down onto the bed, sighing, and looks around the room. It’s dark, the only light being the soft glow of the moon streaming through the window. She allows herself to fall backwards until she is laying flat on her back, staring at the ceiling.

She closes her eyes and an image of Jake flashes into her head. She remembers every single thing about him, and he looks so real it is as if she could touch him, so she tries. She reaches out and feels nothing, and a pang of pain stabs through her heart.

She sighs, opening her eyes and rolling up to the top of the bed. She feels defeated and tired, but she won’t give up. Never.

Amy Santiago _never_ gives up.

-

Amy clutches her script in her hands, her heart beating loudly in her chest as she tries desperately to listen to what Captain Holt is saying through the whooshing in her ears. She can’t believe she is about to do this, tell everyone her secret. She can’t believe she is about to break Captain Holt’s rules and investigate behind his back.

“Dismissed,” Captain Holt says finally with a small wave of his hand. Then he holds his palm up and says, “Oh, Diaz, Boyle, Lieutenant Jeffords. Please stay behind.”

Rosa, Charles and Terry look confusedly between themselves, clearly wondering why they have been asked to wait behind, but they stay in their seats. Amy clears her throat and swallows thickly, rising to her feet. She can feel everyone’s eyes on her as she walks towards the front of briefing room painfully slowly.

“Sergeant Santiago has requested the floor for a few moments,” Holt tells the room, moving out of the way of the podium to stand off to the side. He gestures to Amy, telling her where to stand.

Amy stands behind the podium, trying not to make eye contact with anyone as she unfolds her script. She clears her throat once again because it suddenly feels drier than ever, and begins.

“I have some news for you all,” Amy says quietly, trying to sound as confident as she can. She finally looks up at her friends before her. “I understand that this is a lot to hear, especially when we are all missing Jake so much. I want to ensure you all that I don’t expect anything from any of you. I can do this alone if I have to, and I’m sorry for not telling you before now.” She pauses. Her friends are looking her expectantly, all of them looking ever so slightly afraid of what she might be about to say. She sighs. “I’m pregnant.”

Boyle’s mouth falls open and he slaps both of his hands onto his cheeks. “Oh. My. God!” He exclaims. “Oh my God! It’s happening! It’s finally _happening_!”

Amy rolls her eyes with a sigh, but a smile is tugging at her lips. Her friends all know now, and she is not alone in the world. Holt, Terry, Rosa, Gina and Boyle know, and Amy thinks this might make all the difference in the world.

“Congratulations, Amy!” Terry says with a grin, standing up. “You know that if you ever need anything, Sharon and I will help you out as much as we can.”

“Thanks, Terry,” Amy says with a smile, her hand finding her stomach absentmindedly.

“Oh! And if you have a girl, we have a ton of cute baby clothes!” Terry says excitedly, almost physically jumping up and down on the spot.

Amy laughs. “Sounds cute.”

Boyle is still sitting, head in his hands, looking almost comatose. Amy and Holt share a worried glance, and Amy creeps towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Charles? You okay, buddy?” Amy asks tentatively.

“Does he have a pulse?” Terry asks apprehensively, clearly only half joking.

Amy turns back to Boyle and, when she least expects it, Charles pops up, pulling her into a huge bear hug. She gasps from the impact, and it takes her a second but soon she laughs and hugs him back. It feels good to hug a friend.

“I’m so happy for us!” Charles squeals, then he pulls away to look at Amy and correct himself with, “For _you_, is what I mean! For you and Jakey!”

Amy smiles and pats Boyle on the shoulder. “Thanks, Uncle Boyle.”

Charles gasps and looks like he might faint as he stumbles backwards and nearly falls into Terry. Terry holds him upright gently.

“I think we should get you a glass of water, Boyle,” Terry says, guiding Charles out of the room as the smaller detective blabs on and on about being an uncle to Jake Peralta’s child.

Rosa is still sitting in her seat, watching Amy carefully. Amy is worried about her reaction and is about to approach her when she hears Holt’s voice.

“Congratulations, Sergeant Santiago,” he says with a nod as Amy spins around to look at him.

“Thank you, Captain.” She pauses. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be Uncle Ray? Uncle Holt? Uncle-“

“Grandpa Ray will suit just fine,” Holt corrects her, and Amy is sure she sees him smile slightly as her heart flutters in her chest.

Her Captain wants to be her child’s grandfather.   
  


She feels like she might be about to pass out. _This _is the best day of her life. . . after her wedding day and the day she found out she was pregnant, of course (maybe).

Amy nods. “Of course, Sir. Grandpa Ray.”

Holt places a hand on her shoulder and Amy almost can’t believe it.

“I am very happy for you,” he tells her softly. He pauses momentarily before starting again apprehensively. “I am sorry if this is a personal question, Santiago, but does Peralta know that you bare his child?”

Amy sighs slightly and shakes her head. “No. He doesn’t know. I didn’t find out until he left. I’m twelve and a half weeks gone.”

Captain Holt nods. “I am sorry to hear that, Santiago.” He pauses. “Kevin and I will be here for you. If there is anything you need, anything at all, please do not hesitate to contact us.”

Amy smiles. “Thank you, sir.”

Captain Holt gives her shoulder a squeeze before leaving the room. When Amy turns back around, Rosa is still sitting in her seat, watching her.

“Rosa?” Amy asks worriedly.

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” Rosa asks. “Because you didn’t want to tell me you were knocked up?”

  
Amy sighs. “Yes. Sort of. Kind of. _Yeah_.”

“Dope.” Rosa replies with a nod. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“Thanks, Rosa,” Amy says softly, feeling guilty for everything she is hiding from her friend.

“So Jake doesn’t know?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“That sucks.” Rosa grumbles.

“Yeah, it does,” Amy sighs.

“You shouldn’t have felt like you had to avoid me,” Rosa says. “I wouldn’t have judged you.”

  
Amy swallows nervously. She can feel her heartbeat picking up as her head takes over. She needs Rosa, needs her help and her emotional support desperately right now, and she can trust her. She knows she can. Sleuth sisters, right? And damn it, she shouldn’t be doing this anyway, shouldn’t be putting her career and her pregnancy in danger, so the positives of telling Rosa out way the possible negatives of it, don’t they?

“Rosa, I have to tell you something,” Amy whispers. Rosa opens her mouth to talk but Amy interrupts her, “Not here. I need you to come round tonight. It’s important.”

Rosa looks at her questioningly then straightens her face out, looking as though she trusts Amy. It makes Amy’s heart smile. “Sure.”

Amy feels as though she can breath again for the first time in weeks as she makes her way back to her desk. She is going to tell Rosa everything and Rosa is going to help her solve this, Amy is almost entirely sure she will. She feels happier right now than she has done in weeks, but unfortunately, Holt is waiting patiently for Amy at her old desk - Jake’s desk - and she knows what comes next.

“Santiago, from this point onwards, you are confined to desk duty. I know it may be frustrating but it is important to the precinct and to myself that you and your unborn child are safe.”

Amy agrees, feeling her palms begin to sweat.

From this point on, she is officially breaking Captain Holt’s rules, and it seems as though it’s going to be harder than she thought.

-

Amy almost buys a bottle of wine on the way home for her and Rosa then remembers she can’t drink any alcohol anymore. Instead, she buys two bottles of beer for Rosa, the kind that Jake drinks because she doesn’t know much at all (or _anything_ at all, really) about beer.

Her mind is racing, running one hundred miles a minute, and she can’t seem to slow it down. Every possibility is running through her head. The possibility that Rosa will accept her dishonesty and help her solve the case behinds Holt’s back is prevalent in her mind, but there’s also a hint of something else. A pang of distrust and she hates herself for it, but she has to be careful here. What if Rosa gives her up to Holt? Amy has to solve this case, for Anna, for the other victims, for _herself_.

As she once told Jake, this kind of sexual abuse has happened to literally every woman she knows, Rosa included. She was there the time that Rosa’s ass was grabbed while investigating a case out in public, and of course Rosa knows how to defend herself and left the guy with a bruised up face, but that’s not the point. The point is that solving this case could save young girls, young girls in a terrible position, a position they have both been in themselves but worse.

And Amy hates to admit it, but she knows she needs this. She needs this case. It helps her, no matter how sick and twisted her fascination with it is. It helps her to forget about Jake, or rather to stop thinking about him for a while, and that is worth everything to her.

Rosa is five minutes late when Amy hears a knock on her door. She answers it hastily, and Rosa stands opposite her. She nods to Amy curtly before entering the apartment.

“Heyyyyy, Rosa,” Amy says nervously, trying to seem cool. She has changed into a comfortable top that makes her baby bump extremely visible, and she can feel Rosa’s eyes clinging to her stomach in shock for a second. “I got you beer.”

“Tight,” Rosa replies, grabbing a beer and throwing herself down on the sofa. “What do you want to tell me?”

Rosa scrunches her nose up. Rosa has always been one for cutting to the chase, but Amy thought they might get at least a little more friendly chit chat in than this.

“So, listen,” Amy begins awkwardly as she sits down opposite Rosa. “It’s about the Rodriguez case.”

“What about it?” Rosa asks uninterestedly, taking a swig of her beer.

Amy sighs. “Well,” she says, then takes a deep breath. “I haven’t been... entirely _honest_ with you.”

Rosa’s eyes light up and she leans forward in her seat, suddenly seeming very interested in what Amy has to say. “That’s why you’ve been avoiding me,” she concludes. “So, what is it? Spit it out, Santiago.”

Amy takes a deep breath again. “You have to promise to listen properly and not jump to conclusions. This is important. We can’t make any rash decisions.”

“_Promise_,” Rosa says immediately, rolling her eyes.

“Okay,” Amy begins, unsure. This could go terribly wrong, she knows that, but Rosa knows there’s something up so there’s no going back now. “Well... I kind of, figured something out, I guess. And when I confronted Anna about it, she admitted it was true.” Amy pauses. “She confessed to the murder of her father.”

“Oh my God, Amy! Why the _hell_ would you keep this from me?” Rosa growls, her eyes darkening.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Amy says quickly. “Her father was abusing her! He put her into a child sex-ring at age fifteen and she... she found out he was going to invest more money into them so she killed him.”

“What the fuck?” Rosa says in a shocked manner. “Why wouldn’t you tell me this until now?” Rosa pauses, then something seems to dawn on her. “Oh, you’ve been investigating the sex-ring and trying to keep Anna out of jail. Now that everyone knows you’re pregnant you want to pass the case over to me.”

Amy shakes her head, swallowing. “No, actually. I want us to work the case together.”

“But you’re confined to desk duty.”

“I want us to work the case together. Behind Holt’s back.”

A small smirk creeps it’s way onto Rosa’s face. “Amy Santiago breaking the rules. I like it.”

Amy sighs. “This case is important to me, Rosa.”

“It’s not a good idea. You’re pregnant. It could be dangerous,” Rosa says, then she sighs. “But I know you well enough to know that you aren’t just going to give this up. When something’s important to you, you have to finish it, and I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to your baby. You know that.”

Amy nods. “I trust you. That’s why I’m coming to you.”

“I’m super mad at you for putting Jake’s baby in danger,” Rosa says roughly, pointing a finger at Amy. “You know how upset he’d be. But, this is important. This isn’t just about me or you or Jake. This is about a group of kids in a bad situation, and we can help them.”

Amy smiles slightly. “I knew you’d understand.” She fails to tell Rosa about the many times she has doubted her in the past few weeks since Anna confessed to her.

Rosa sighs. “Jake will literally kill me if he finds out I let you do this pregnant.”

“I make my own decisions. Jake knows that.” Amy says pointedly, then softer, “Thank you for doing this, Rosa. It means a lot. I’m glad I could count on you.”

Rosa smiles slightly. “Sleuth sisters, even if you are an asshole.”

Amy grins back through tears. “Sleuth sisters.”

-

Amy spends the rest of the night filling Rosa in on the details so far. She shows Rosa everything she has been able to find on James Thomas Johnston and explains what happened when she investigated him, and they begin brainstorming how they might further investigate him without drawing suspicion.

“I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it,” Rosa says with a smirk. “It could work.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything to prove he’s guilty,” Amy says wholeheartedly, and she means it. She really does.

“Well, sleazy guys like him usually spend a lot of time in strip-clubs,” Rosa says, waggling her eyebrows. “It’s not that hard to dress up as a stripper.”

Apparently Amy will do _almost_ anything to prove Tom is guilty.

Amy feels her face flush red. “Uh, I, uh, no, I-“

“Aw come on! Trust me, man! I’ve done a hundred times before!” Rosa says, throwing her hands up in the air.

“What would Jake say?” Amy says, trying desperately to think of any excuse she can throw at Rosa.

“You know he’d love it,” Rosa cackles and Amy blushes harder, because she knows Rosa is right. “Anyways, it would work and you know it would. Two hot Latina’s dressed in lingerie could get that asshole to admit anything!”

“I guess it might,” Amy says quickly, then clears her throat, hoping to change the subject. “I need to use the bathroom.”

She gets up and walks away, and hears Rosa snort and laugh behind her.

In the bathroom, Amy washes her face with cold water. She feels like dying after that conversation, and she doesn’t want to dress as a stripper, but maybe Rosa is right. Maybe it would work. It probably would, actually. Tom is a disgusting pervert of a man and Rosa is right, two women dressed in stripper clothes could probably get him to open up about anything they wanted him to, especially if they got him wasted first.

Amy crosses her arms over her chest self-consciously as she leaves the bathroom. Dressing as a stripper isn’t something she’s ever wanted to do and she still can’t stand the idea, but she’s no pussy (or at least, she doesn’t want Rosa to think she is). She opens her mouth to talk but when she enters the living room, Rosa has Amy’s pregnancy binder on her lap opened to the newest page.

Since she found out she was pregnant just over a month ago, Amy has been entering as much information as she can weekly for Jake to read when he gets back. She inserts a picture of her bump each week, a fact file about the baby’s size and development and a little paragraph about her and the baby’s week, all beautiful decorated and perfectly written. It’s important to her that Jake feels involved in the pregnancy when he gets home, even if he isn’t able to be here for the majority of it.

Amy opens her mouth to speak when Rosa sniffles and looks up at her, and Amy is shocked to see that Rosa is crying.

“Amy,” Rosa sniffles. “This is so beautiful. What the hell?”

Amy smiles a little. “It’s for Jake.”

“I can’t believe you dorks are having a freaking _baby_,” Rosa sobs.

Amy smirks a little. “Rosa Diaz is crying. Amy Santiago broke the rules. We might actually be swapping places.”

Rosa straightens her face, wiping her tears away. “Rosa Diaz is crying, and if you tell anyone about it, ever, I’ll tell everyone about your secret then I’ll wait till your baby is born and I. Will. _Kill_. You.”

Amy swallows. “Understood.”

Rosa smiles gently. “Great. Glad we cleared that up.”

-

When Rosa leaves with plans to return the following day and continue to plan for future investigations into Tom, Amy goes to bed feeling relieved and refreshed for the first time in what feels like forever.

That fact that she feels happier, however, does not stop her from slipping into one of the few shirts of Jake’s that still smell from him. She saves them for nights like these, when she needs his presence most.

After all, both of her secrets may be out in the open now, but it is still May the first, and nothing can change that. Amy doesn’t think she’s ever missed Jake more and she never, ever thought she’d feel this way but, her anniversary could stay far away from her for all she cares.

Amy sighs as she drifts off to sleep. This is going to be a hard month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so a lot happened in this chapter! everyone finally knows about amy’s pregnancy and she finally told rosa about the case! did you guys enjoy? let me know! 
> 
> also let me know what you think will happen next!! 
> 
> thank you for reading <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! 
> 
> i’m really sorry for taking a while to update, this fic can be hard to write bc it’s sort of sad
> 
> please if you have time, check out my igbf @b99storytimes dianetti fic! it’s amazing and deserves way more reads!! <3
> 
> thanks so much for reading guys! as usual, let me know what you thought! :)

**\- May -**

“Do we really have to do this, Rosa? I mean, we’re two totally capable cops. Surely we can think of another way...?”

Amy can’t stop talking as she runs along next to Rosa, trying to keep up. Rosa turns to glance at her as she continues to walk swiftly, faster than Amy’s feet can carry her.

“Santiago, you didn’t have to dress up. What’s the big deal?”

She knows Rosa is right as she watches her walk towards the club. The detective is wearing tiny booty shorts and a lacy bra, covered only by a black trench coat, and Amy is surprised at how practiced Rosa seems to be at walking in eight-inch-heels. She is also shocked at her confidence. Amy knew Rosa was happy with herself and didn’t care what anyone else thought, she just didn’t know it went to such an extreme.

That’s why Amy almost feels guilty for refusing to participate. Instead, she is dressed in her usual pantsuit and shirt combo and she will listen in through a surveillance van around the block from the strip club. She used her pregnancy as an excuse, which Rosa immediately accepted and proceeded to tell her not to agree to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with, but Amy still feels bad about it. She knows that it’s okay not to be comfortable with certain undercover tasks, but it still feels like a failure on her part.

“Are you sure this is okay, Rosa?” Amy asks apprehensively as they stop a few metres from the club and Rosa turns to face her. Amy crosses her arms over her chest self-consciously. “I mean, I feel bad making you go in there alone. I can go change and come in with you if you want. It’s not-“

“It’s cool,” Rosa says with her normal deadpan expression. “Don’t worry about it.” She pauses. “Your bumps probably getting too big for it now anyway.”

Amy can’t help but smile a little as she uses one hand to caress her growing stomach. Now that she is an entire week into her second trimester, things are really starting to feel real, or at least realer than they did before, and she is happy.

The thought of the tiny baby growing in her stomach makes it easier to push away the thought of her wedding anniversary coming up in just over a week.

She sighs. “Okay,” she finally gives in. “But if you need me, remember the code word.”

“Grapefruit,” Rosa says, rolling her eyes. “I won’t need it.”

“Just in case.”

“I know.”

Amy leaves after that, scurrying off back to the surveillance van. She locks all the doors around her just in case, because they are in a sketchy corner of Bed-Sty and her nesting behaviours have started to make her even more paranoid than she was before.

It takes a few seconds before Rosa’s mic clicks on, and for the first while there is just a lot of load music and rustling sounds as Rosa dances. Amy sort of wishes she was there to watch, to see a part of Rosa she’s never seen before. She knows about Rosa’s dancing past but she’s never actually seen proof it. She closes her eyes and imagines Rosa swaying to the music that blasts through the speakers in the van.

It was difficult to get the van without Captain Holt finding out, but Rosa figured it out. As usual. Rosa always knows the answer, and Amy is more than thankful to have her on the case. She hates to admit, maybe it’s baby brain kicking in, but she has been struggling to deal with this case alone, especially the implications it has for both her career and the children involved. Rosa has made things one-hundred-times easier, and it’s great to have a friend round so often to confide in.

Around an hour into the investigation, when Amy is just starting to wonder if Tom is ever going to show up, the music gets quieter and Rosa begins to talk.

“He’s here,” Rosa says in a hushed voice. “I’m in the bathroom.”

“Code word?” Amy asks, just wanting to make sure Rosa knows. Rosa is already risking her job for this, Amy doesn’t need her risking her safety as well.

“Grapefruit,” Rosa says quietly, sounding slightly exasperated.

The music gets louder again as Rosa obviously exits the bathroom.

It wasn’t hard to find out where Tom goes. They followed him at a distance for a twelve-hour-period, and he came here, to a strip club on the corner of a street in Bed-Sty called ‘Beatz’. They followed him again, and he came back. After that, it was pretty safe to assume that this was somewhere he visits regularly, and it seems they were right.

Amy hurriedly gets her notepad out as she hears Rosa scratch out, “Hey, sexy,” in the probably the most suggestive voice ever.

Amy raises her eyebrows. She knew Rosa was a bit of a vixen but this was a lot more than she ever expected.

Amy begins to take notes as neatly as she can while keeping up as Tom replies.

“Well, hello.”

A shiver runs down Amy’s spine as she hears his voice. It’s not like she hasn’t heard it before. In fact, she had an entire conversation with him just a few weeks ago, face-to-face, alone. But now that she knows who he is and what he has done, things are different. It’s more difficult to listen to him.

“So are you gonna pay for a lap dance or what?” Rosa purrs, and Amy hears her sip on something. She imagines it to be a bright pink cocktail, something Rosa would never usually drink but that her character, Crystal, would.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Amy almost vomits. ‘_Sweetheart_’.

“Crystal. What’s yours?” Rosa says quietly, and Amy strains to make sure she is hearing everything. She has to take perfect notes on this, it could end up being crucial to the case. Anything he says could be important.

“Tom.”

Just hearing him refer to himself as Tom rather than as James scares Amy. It makes her wonder who he is. James is like his alter ego, someone he plays at work at the car rental service. But tonight he is Tom, his real self, and Tom is a much scarier guy to come into contact with.

“Pleased to meet you, Tom.”

“I’ll take that lap dance, princess.”

There is a lot of rustling and movement as Rosa agrees and proceeds to presumably lead Tom to a chair. Rosa really is the bravest woman Amy knows, because Amy isn’t sure she would be able to do it, even if blowing her cover could risk the case. It’s probably a good idea that she decided to sit this one out.

“So, Tom. What do you do for a living?” Rosa asks, the tone of her voice moving around as she dances.

“I rent cars out.” Tom says, his voice lower and more gravelly than before. “I buy ‘em, clean ‘em up and rent ‘em out.”

“Anything else? Anything on the side?”

Amy smiles to herself. Straight to the point, just like Rosa always is.

“What are you asking me?” Tom asks, and he sounds suspicious. Amy winces. Maybe asking him outright was a step too far, too soon. “What do you mean?”

“Ouch. Dude, chill. I meant, like, dealing.” There is a short pause then, louder, “Get your hands off my waist!”

“Rosa,” Amy says immediately into the microphone, hoping Rosa can hear it through her earpiece over the music. “Rosa.” She is worried now, worried about Rosa’s safety.

“Do you know something, Crystal?” Tom asks again, sounding increasingly angry.

“Rosa, get out of there!” Amy exclaims. She doesn’t care about information anymore, she just cares about getting Rosa away from this guy. It’s not like Rosa can’t handle herself, but Amy knows as well as anyone else Rosa would be best to leave now rather than punch Tom and break character.

“I swear, man. If you put your hands on me once more I’m cutting this lap dance short,” Rosa growls, sounding a little less like Crystal and a little more like herself now. There is a pause, a swallow, and then, “This drink tastes like grapefruit. I’m gonna go get another.”

“Just get out of there, Rosa,” Amy says nervously as she hears the code word. She knows Rosa wouldn’t use it unless something was genuinely really wrong.

It’s only a few moments later that Rosa knocks on the door of the van and Amy opens it to her.

“Fuck!” Rosa says as she enters the van, kicking the side of the inside.

“What did he do, Rosa? Was it that scary?”

“Listen, I’m not scared of anything. He totally knew I was up to something. You should’ve seen the look in his eyes. I’m pretty sure he knows I’m a cop and that he’s being investigated.”

Amy swallows. “How do you know?”

“Just trust me,” Rosa says gruffly was she throws herself into a chair. “I can tell.”

“What do we do now?” Amy sighs, sinking backwards and running her hands through her hair. They had pretty much counted on this working, on him at least admitting something.

“I don’t know, man,” Rosa says. “All I know is that we’ll figure it out.” She stands up and pulls a black tee-shirt over her, presumably for warmth, though Rosa would never admit that she was cold.

Amy sits in silence for a few minutes, then it dawns on her. Anna wasn’t the only one there. She wasn’t the only kid being sold and she sure as hell wasn’t the only one who could identify Tom or where he works from.

“That’s it!” She exclaims, jumping up out of her seat. Rosa stares at her blankly as Amy feels her own face light up. “I’ve got it!”

“Spit it out, sarge.”

“Right, right, right,” Amy says, realising Rosa can’t read her mind. “Anna wasn’t the only kid there. There were other children just like her in the same position.”

Rosa stands up too, looking somewhat more emotive than usual. “We have to find one of them to help us figure this out!”

“Exactly!” Amy cries excitedly.

“You’re a genius, Santiago.”

Amy grins. “I know.”

-

Amy isn’t used to not being able to solve a case immediately. Usually, solving puzzles is her forte, but this case is entirely different.

She talks to Anna, who can only remember one name from her time in the ring: Mia. Amy and Rosa can’t be sure of Mia’s potential age or where she is in the world right now, but it’s something.

Rosa spends as much time at Amy’s apartment as she can over the next few weeks, without Jocelyn getting suspicious, of course. Amy and Rosa agreed that it would be best that no one else know. It would only put the others in danger and, potentially, legal trouble, so Amy and Rosa keep it to themselves.

Amy is starting to become frustrated though.

This case is supposed to be serving as a distraction, acting as something exciting in her currently Jake-less life. Everyday, their anniversary creeps closer and closer and it gets harder and harder for Amy to forget about it.

She wishes she didn’t have to forget about it in the first place.

-

On the fourteenth of May, one day before Amy and Jake’s wedding anniversary, Amy has to go to work. Part of her wants to call in sick. She’s sure Captain Holt would understand. But then again, wallowing in her own self pity isn’t something she’s ever really done before, and she’s not even sure where to start. Getting up and on with it is almost part of Amy’s personality, so she goes to work.

It’s a quiet day. People mostly leave her alone because they know. They know how she is feeling. They check in on her every couple of hours, ask her how she is, she tells them all that she is fine, then they leave her to her own devices.

Her uniformed officers are working well together but she does have to have a disciplinary meeting with one who has missed three shifts in the last two weeks due to illness. Turns out he is going through a nasty divorce, so Amy let’s him go with a half-assed scolding. She knows what it’s like to miss a spouse, even if the situations are completely different.

She spends most of the rest of her day trying to do paperwork and not allow herself to become distracted by the framed picture of her and her husband on her desk. His smile is contagious, even in photographs. He really is the most charming, handsome man she has ever laid her eyes on. She can’t imagine being with anyone else.

By now, word of her pregnancy has spread around the precinct and it seems a different person stops her to congratulate her at least once an hour. She hates all the attention, even though she is excited. It would be different if Jake was here, if they were announcing this as a family, together.

Five-pm rolls in before long and Amy collects her things to leave. She stuffs the book of crossword puzzles Terry got her for her last birthday in her handbag along with her keys and heads upstairs to let Captain Holt know she is going home. She doesn’t have to, but she knows he likes it better when people make him aware they will be absent for the rest of the day.

For once, Holt’s door is slightly ajar. Amy knocks gently and waits till she hears him clear his voice to enter the room.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading home, sir,” Amy says as she enters, clutching her handbag.

Captain Holt looks up from the paperwork laid out in front of him. “Very well, Sergeant Santiago.” He pauses. “Forgive me if this seems like too personal a question, but how are you doing, what with tomorrow’s date?”

Amy sighs. She should’ve known this question was coming. “I’m okay,” she says, shifting nervously from one foot to another. “I’m okay.”

Holt studies her for a moment. “I believe you,” he says, but it doesn’t sound very convincing. “I would like to make you aware that you are welcome to take tomorrow off of work, considering the circumstances.”

Amy shakes her head. “No thank you, sir.” She just can’t bare the idea of being left alone with her thoughts tomorrow.

Holt nods once then reaches into his desk drawer, pulling out a small white box tied with a yellow bow. He holds it out towards Amy. “An anniversary gift from Kevin and I,” he states.

Amy immediately feels her eyes well up with tears. Screw her wedding, this is the best day of her life.

“You didn’t have to, sir.”

“Nonsense. It was our decision and we decided that the idea of giving you and Peralta a gift was attractive to us.” He pauses. “Please accept Kevin and I’s congratulations on two years of marriage.”

“Thank you, sir,” Amy whispers as she takes the box gently. “You don’t know how much this means.”

“As your police captain and as a friend, I am always here for you, Amy, as is the rest of the team. You can always count on the nine nine.”

“I know, sir,” Amy says, blinking back tears. “Thank you.”

-

Amy takes her time walking home. It’s a lot warmer now than it was only a few weeks ago, and it’s still bright out at this time of day. She thinks about opening Holt’s gift. It was a lovely thing for him to do, but she’s just not ready yet. Not ready to open it and accept that, _yes_, tomorrow is in fact her anniversary.

It feels like Jake just doesn’t exist anymore. After two months of him being gone, the world feels Jake-less. Amy remembers everything about him, all of his mannerisms and his smell and the way his skin feels, but he feels like a ghost. Amy feels as though he is gone for good.

She hopes he is safe. She always does. She knows he will be thinking about her right now, about her anniversary, so she thinks about him as strongly as she can and hopes that somehow, wherever he is, he can hear her.

Amy takes a different route home and walks by a small baby shop. She stops at the window and gazes inside at the tiny clothes and shoes, then spots a small knockoff NYPD baby grow.

Her heart longs to pick it up, to see how small it is in her hands, to take it home and keep it there for under six months time when she has her own tiny baby to fit inside of it, but this is another thing she isn’t ready for. She isn’t ready to accept that she might have to do a lot of this on her own. She doesn’t want to go to doctors appointments or shop for clothes or decorate the nursery without Jake by her side. This is just as much his baby as it is hers.

She reaches out for him, tries to telepathically communicate to him that their baby is on the way, that in half a year he will have a tiny best friend, but she knows it isn’t working because he doesn’t answer.

At home, the apartment seems darker and colder than ever. Amy strips off her uniform and wraps her naked body in a blanket before flopping down on the sofa.

She lies there for what feels like hours, days, not sleeping but not really awake, not thinking but mind not entirely blank.

And then her phone goes off.

She ignores the first few rings, then sits up slowly when she realises it isn’t going to stop until she either hangs up or answers. She reaches for her purse, takes her time retrieving her phone.

Unknown number.

She shouldn’t answer it, shouldn’t want to. She never answers calls from numbers she doesn’t know, never has. But something makes her pick it up. Something forces her to press the answer button and lift the phone to her ear shakily.

“Hello?” She says quietly, swallowing nervously.

“Ames?”

Amy’s breath hitches in her throat. It’s like all the air leaves her body suddenly and she is winded, completely unable to move. In fact, she feels as though she might physically faint, her head spinning as she squeezes her eyes closed, trying to ground herself.

_Is this real?_

“Jake?” She splutters, trying to hold back tears. Maybe it isn’t him. Maybe she just wants it to be.

“_Ames_.”

She lets out a strangled sob as she clutches at her chest. “Jake!” She cries out.

“_Shhhh_,” he says immediately, softly but firmly. “If they hear me, I could be screwed.”

“I’m sorry,” Amy says immediately, quieter this time as tears begin to roll down her cheeks and she tries not to sob hysterically. She can’t believe this is happening, and she isn’t totally sure that it isn’t just a figment of her own imagination, that she hasn’t just dreamt it up. “I’m sorry. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Ames,” he says softly with a slight laugh that makes Amy’s heart throb.

“Oh my God,” Amy splutters. “Is it really you?”

“It’s really me, baby,” Jake says, and Amy feels like her heart is going to explode. “I’m here.”

Amy is suddenly overcome with the urge to tell him her news, to tell him about the baby. It’s only fair that he know. He should know. She should tell him.

But...

“How is the operation going?” Amy murmurs the question.

“It’s going great,” Jake replies, and Amy can hear the grin in his voice.

She knows then that she can’t tell him. Not here, not now. He’d want to come straight home, and that would ruin his mission and potentially put him in danger. If he didn’t come home, the knowledge that his wife was at home pregnant would torture him. She can’t do this to him, not now.

“I love you,” Amy tells him instead.

“I love you, Ames. I miss you so much,” Jake sighs. “I can’t talk for much longer.”

“I know,” Amy confirms.

“I know it’s technically tomorrow, but happy wedding anniversary,” Jake whispers. Amy can hear the tears in his voice, and she is sure he can hear them in hers too.

“Happy anniversary,” Amy says with a smile which quickly drops from her face as she hears a noise on Jake’s end.

“Gotta go. I love you. Bye.”

Amy opens her mouth to reply, to tell him she loves him, but the line quickly goes dead.

Amy squeezes her eyes closed, keeping the phone next to her ear. The room feels as though it is spinning around her, as though nothing is real, like it is all an illusion. She grasps the edge of the sofa with her free hand, desperate to find something, anything to ground herself.

_This can’t be happening._

Finally, she opens her eyes and places her phone down. She tries to stand but her legs immediately give out and she falls to the floor with a flop. Her stomach turns as she hears the words going round and round in her head, Jake’s voice overwhelming her, stabbing at her brain.

She is going to vomit.

She can’t hold it in for long enough to get up and scramble to the bathroom, so she crawls on all fours to the trash can and throws up into it. She dry heaves for a while after, hyperventilating as her body processes what has happened.

_This isn’t fair._

She knows Jake was only trying to make her happy, that he wanted to hear her voice, and she is thankful. For the first time in two months, she has been able to tell him she loves him and hear his beautiful laugh. Even now, it echoes in her head, giving her hope.

But he has put himself in danger, and he should’ve known better. Hearing Jake’s voice again was amazing, but it isn’t worth his life. If they find out he is married, that he is undercover, that he is a cop, he could be killed, and Amy will never see him again.

She feels incredibly guilty for not telling him about the baby. She made a snap judgement about it, deciding it was best not to tell him, but maybe she should’ve just told him. Maybe she should’ve told him and let him come home, hell mend the mission. Maybe then he’d be on his way back to her right now, ready for their family to begin.

But no. It’s not Amy’s responsibility to meddle in Jake’s work life, even if it directly involves her. If he doesn’t complete this mission, if he doesn’t at least get the opportunity to, then he will never forgive himself. They can have more kids, another pregnancy, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for Jake, and she can’t spoil it for him.

She shuffles on her bum over to the sofa and bundles herself up in her blanket, tucking her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs.

_“It’s really me, baby.”_

Amy shivers. She plays the sentence over and over again in her head till she knows it off by heart, till she can hear exactly how Jake breathed it down the phone to her, then she plays it some more, until she has relaxed backwards into the sofa and drifted off to sleep.

-

Amy’s eyes burn the next day and the entire apartment smells of vomit. She comes to with a start, and stumbles her way into the bathroom.

She looks exhausted and frail. She hasn’t realised it until now, but her lack of appetite has clearly caused some weight loss, making her baby bump stand out even more. She brushes a hand over it as she studies herself and the way she looks right now, and she doesn’t like it one bit. She looks so unhealthy.

She brushes her teeth and puts on as much makeup as she can to cover up how tired she is looking.

In the kitchen, she stares at her calendar. It is the fifteenth of May, Amy and Jake’s second wedding anniversary. This should be a time to celebrate, a time to appreciate each other.

Amy looks over at the stove and imagines Jake there, grinning over his shoulder at her as he sings along to Taylor Swift and cooks her pancakes. He makes the best pancakes, much better than anything Amy can cook. She imagines him walking towards her with a glint in his eyes, snaking his arms around her waist and kissing the tip of her nose like he always does. But this Jake is a ghost. The real Jake isn’t here, and last night cemented that for her.

Amy flops down on the couch after cleaning out the contents of the bin (which is the most disgusting thing she’s ever had to do in her life). She reaches for her handbag and digs around until she finds the white box that Captain Holt gave her yesterday.

She places it in her lap, contemplating it for a moment. When she opens this, things become real. It means she really is spending this anniversary without Jake, that it really is happening.

The box is white and rectangular but thin, and it is held closed by a pale yellow ribbon tied into a perfect bow. She smiles, knowing it was probably Kevin who wrapped it.

Slowly, and with shaking hands, she pulls out the bow and removes the lid from the box.

Her breath falters. She lifts a small, yellow baby onesie out of the box. It is tiny, smaller than any of the ones she saw in the baby shop yesterday. It is pale yellow with thin white stripes and a bee in the middle. She clutches it to her chest, imagining that a tiny baby is wearing it, then she holds it up to her stomach, as if to try it on.

“It suits you, little one,” Amy giggles.

She folds the onesie carefully and places it to the side, looking back to the box. Fitting perfectly inside the box, there is a picture frame which a photograph inside.

It is a photo of Amy and Jake on their wedding day, Amy in her beautiful dress that she misses so much and Jake beaming bigger than she has ever seen him before. And then, on either side of them, are Holt and Kevin in their suits. This photo was taken at the wedding after party, and even Holt is smiling.

She stares at it for a second, at her. She traces a finger along her face. It looks so soft and she looks so happy. A smile finds her face as she remembers what it’s like to feel really, truly happy, the way she did on her wedding day, even after all of the issues they experienced that day. She looks at Holt, the way he is smiling across at Jake, the warmth in his eyes. He may as well be saying ‘_I’m proud you, son_’. They are lucky to have him, to be able to call him their Captain, even after all this time.

Amy displays the picture on she and Jake’s mantelpiece in the corner of the living room. It is littered with images of them. One of them is from their first date. They are both grinning widely, and Amy can see in her eyes how drunk she was. Four drinks. Four drink Amy is a little... frisky, as confirmed by what happened on that evening, directly after that date. She remembers how gentle Jake was with her, how he treated her as though he might break her or she might disappear in his hands, how he kept asking her if she was sure, if she was okay with it. And she was. She was more than okay with it.

She leaves the photograph of she, Jake, Holt and Kevin next to the one from their first date that caught her eye, then she places the folded up baby onesie back inside the box, retying the bow neatly. Maybe it would be a good day to reveal the baby to Jake.

The rest of the day doesn’t feel as heavy after that. She gives Holt a knowing smile when she sees him and he nods back at her in response. Everyone is very careful with her, and it’s unnerving, but she’s almost glad they aren’t forcing her to talk to them too much.

She can’t allow what Jake did to slip out of her at any point. He’s broken conduct, and he will get into a lot of trouble if Terry or Holt find out. She has to keep it to herself, and even though the idea of keeping another secret doesn’t exactly seem attractive to her right now, she has a feeling this one is more important than any of the others before it.

Rosa isn’t working today, which is why Amy is surprised when she receives a phone call from her. When her phone rings, her breath catches in her throat, but then she sees that the caller ID is Rosa and she relaxes.

“Hello?” Amy says as she answers the phone. “Rosa?”

“Amy, I found her.”

“You found who?”

“I found Mia.”


End file.
